Redemption: an Awakening Tale
by artemiskat
Summary: Melisende Cousland worries about ever returning to normal after the Blight has ended. A renewed sense of purpose returns when the opportunity to help rebuild the Grey Wardens arises, only to dissipate just as quickly as she crashes head on with her past.
1. Prologue

_Edited (cut down, mostly, for easier reading) February 27, 2011.  
Minor edits (spelling, form breaks, etc.) October 12, 2011._

_Thank you to _mutive _for the tips, though I am ashamed to say I didn't follow them all, mostly out of laziness. They were helpful and very appreciated though, so thanks, again!_

* * *

Prologue

Civil war averted.

Ferelden united.

An archdemon slain.

The Blight ended.

Together, Maric's bastard son and Loghain's daughter on the throne.

These are tales of which the bards already sing of, the Dalish storytellers narrate, the historians of the Chantry and the Shaperate record dutifully, and the ordinary person embellishes to friends and family.

But what happens when the dust settles, when the euphoria of victory, of being alive, subsides to a faint murmur? These, these are tales which have yet to be told, yet to be played out. For the heroes at the center of it all, these are not tales; they are not even legends, nor myths, nor even an epic song. It is life. They had shed blood, sweat, and tears for their country, and will continue to do so, for it is their calling.

But nobody ever told them it would be easy.

For Melisende Cousland, fighting in the shadows of two great men, the mage Tristan Amell and soon to be king, Alistair, peace couldn't come soon enough. When it did come, after Tristan slew the archdemon at the top of Fort Drakon, peace was nothing as she had imagined it to be.

In the days after the Blight, Melisende walked around court in a daze. She felt empty, hopeless. There was nothing for her to do anymore. She wished she could venture into the deep roads and end her life. Nobody knew she felt this way. She hid her despair behind smiles and pleasantries and deep down inside she felt that nobody cared. She had to leave. She couldn't stay at court anymore. Her only option was to go home.

…

On her way home to Highever, Melisende found herself stopping in front of the ruins of Cousland Castle. It had been a little over a year since the attack, yet it was only now slowly being rebuilt.

For a moment, Melisende stood rooted to the ground, unable to move. She took in the sight of her old home. It was nothing like she remembered. There was no joy in the scene, no love. There was only sadness, anger, and an overwhelming sense of hatred for the perpetrator of the crime.

She thought she would be able to move on after getting revenge, but it was very hard. Everything had gone wrong for her. She had lost most of her family, the first man she had ever loved, and her purpose in life had disappeared along with the Blight. It made her feel like an old woman, though in a perfect world, she would have been just embarking on life, with a husband, maybe even a child or two. Rendon Howe was gone, but she was not happy.

Melisende took a deep breath, then ventured into the ruins. She went as far as the library and then stopped. She could go no further. She couldn't bear it. Her chest felt about to burst. She picked up a scrap of an old book. The edges were burnt and the words were barely readable, yet she recognized it. It was the first book she had ever read. Her memories of her family, their terrible deaths consumed her mind in a miasma of terror. She felt their deaths, their pain. She burst into uncontrollable tears, the book falling from her hands with a thud.

"Sister, is that you?" she heard. She tried to stop sobbing, to stop shaking, for she did not want to be seen this way. She felt a hand touch gently upon her shoulder and it only made her sob even more as she turned and saw her brother Fergus.

"My little Mel, you are home," he said as he enfolded her in his arms in comfort. He held her for a few moments as she composed herself enough to talk.

"Fergus, what are you doing here? I thought you were staying in town…" she asked him. She hadn't seen him since the coronation.

"I'm overseeing the reconstruction," he replied. "It's hard, isn't it?"

"More than I ever expected."

"People tell me to remember how they lived, but all I can imagine is their deaths. I wasn't there… but…"

"You wish you were?" Melisende interrupted. Fergus nodded. He had been on his way to Ostagar when Rendon Howe betrayed their family, sacking the castle and murdering every inhabitant. Melisende had been lucky to make it out alive.

"Yes. Maybe they would still be alive…" Fergus said sadly. Melisende's cheeks ran rampant with tears again.

"Oren." Melisende whispered as she glimpsed a miniature soldier in the clutches of Fergus's right hand.

"Just a boy…" Fergus closed his eyes, visibly pained at the mention of his son's name. Neither Melisende nor Fergus had had a chance to really grieve the loss of their families. Melisende had been busy dealing with the Blight and Fergus had been badly wounded at Ostagar. For Melisende, her grief seemed to be resurfacing after being asleep for a good while.

"Some would say time heals all, but I say that is rubbish," she said, wiping her face of her tears, which had slowed to a trickle, leaving her feeling hollow. Anger moved into that void now.

"And father would say that it is what we do in that time which allows us to heal…" Fergus replied. _Father, oh Maker_, she thought. She remembered the secret smile of knowing Bryce Cousland used to flash her after sneaking off to train with Fergus. Her mother Eleanor had not wanted her to play with swords and daggers but to grow up a proper noble lady. Melisende had resigned herself to that fate her mother had wanted for her, to become the wife of a noble. So long as she got to sneak around, spying and causing mischief in the meantime, she would do what her mother wanted later. But that never came to be.

"I wish to go, let us go." Melisende begged. She needed to get out of there. The memories were stifling her, enraging her. She feared she would snap if she spent one more minute there.

"As you wish." Fergus agreed. They left the ruins of their childhood home with heavy hearts.

…

Even in Highever, however, she couldn't be at peace with herself. She saw ghosts of her family everywhere. She saw what could have been but was not. She drank more than she ever did before. _Maker, I am becoming like Oghren, wallowing in self-pity_. But there was nothing she could do, nor did she even feel like doing anything about herself. She would live out what years she had left as a drunk, then go end it all in the deep roads, preferably by running headlong into an embrace with an ogre. Melisende locked herself in her rooms all day, coming out only at night to practice her fighting skills, in a drunken stupor no less. Fergus tried to convince her that heroes did not act this way. _I'm no hero_, she would say, _Tristan is the hero, bugger off, and go bug him, Fergus_.

A few weeks passed. Melisende continued her downward spiral. Letters from Alistair piled up in her doorway. She ignored them. She used some of them for kindling. A messenger brought an urgent message from him one day, but Melisende chased the messenger away with a dagger. A week later, another came, this time from Tristan, again marked urgent by the messenger.

"Oh Maker, what do they want from me? Why can't they just leave me alone?" she exclaimed, furiously. She threw the letter in the corner, told the messenger to leave, and took a nap. When she awoke, she grabbed a bottle of ale and took a big gulp. The letter from Tristan seemed to glare at her. It gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Ugh!" she threw the bottle of ale on the floor, shattering it and spilling the contents all over the floor. She walked to the corner, grabbed the letter, breathed a heavy sigh, and opened it.

_Melisende,_

_Nobody has heard from you for a few months. It seems to me you may have some inner demons still troubling you. We all do, trust me. But I am not writing to you only out of concern for your wellbeing, although there have been rumours trickling to Denerim. Suffice it to say we are all worried. The thing is, the King has appointed me as Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, as you already know. It is about high time I make my way to Amaranthine and start rebuilding the order. We must forever remain vigilant, though the blight has ended. Melisende, I need you. You are a Grey Warden. It is your duty to accompany me. Need I remind you it is up to you and I only to rebuild a whole order? The king has other duties, no doubt. So, as your commander, I am ordering you to Vigil's Keep, but as your friend, I am begging you to come, for I need you, and believe it or not, I really do miss you. Report to me as soon as possible. I am already on my way to the arling. –Tristan._

"Pfft. He needs _me_?" Melisende put the letter down. She was grateful that Tristan never mentioned Alistair by name.

"That charming devil," she said to herself as she pondered the letter. _It is nice to be needed, but the snake also ordered me to go_, she thought. _How clever indeed. _Despite her annoyance, Melisende began to feel something. She hadn't felt anything for a long while. A purpose was building up inside of her. What was she doing here? Being an embarrassment to Fergus? To herself? She couldn't bear to look at herself anymore. Now, however, she had something to look towards, and it was a start. She couldn't be like this anymore. She wouldn't be like this anymore.

"If he wants me to go, if he orders me to go, then by the Maker I shall go to Amaranthine," she said to herself. Yes, it was indeed good to have a purpose again. It was a start, at the very least.

…

"Fergus, I am truly sorry for what I have become," Melisende said as she embraced her brother the next day. "I have blackened the Cousland name."

"Nonsense," he replied. "You have been a hero. You have helped to end the Blight. You killed the viper!"

_How tactful_, she thought, _he is avoiding the fact that I have become a drunken recluse these past few weeks_.

"You know what I mean, brother."

"Melisende, we all have our dark moments. Believe me, when I thought I was all that was left of the Couslands, when I heard what had happened to my wife, my son, I wished death upon myself. But my sense of duty saved me. I got through it. You will too. Redemption is always a possibility, my little sister."

"You are right. I have become selfish. I never thought of what you went through…"

"Enough," Fergus held up his hand. "All is well now. And I believe you have somewhere to be, no?"

Melisende laughed. "Yes, I do. I will miss you Fergus. Will you remarry?"

"It is good to see you laugh," he smiled. "But as to answer your question, I suppose I will have to remarry one day. But for now, I must rebuild the castle, as you must rebuild the Grey Wardens. There are wenches a plenty to satisfy me for now."

"Oh, you are impossible, Fergus!"

"Fare you well my sister. Remember you are always welcome here."

"Thank you, I will remember that. Goodbye, for now."

With a renewed sense of purpose stirring inside of her being, Melisende set off on her journey to the arling of Amaranthine.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter I

A couple of days later, Melisende reached the entrance to Vigil's Keep. The burly guard stopped her from entering.

"Sorry lady, but we're a bit on edge here. The Vigil was attacked by darkspawn a few days ago," he explained.

Melisende was not surprised. The farms she had passed on her way in were tense and uneasy, with whispers of an attack, but no definite news.

"Don't worry about it, I am a Grey Warden. Has the Commander made it here yet?" the guard suddenly stood straighter at Melisende's admission of being a Grey Warden.

"Excuse me, I thought you were just a traveler…" Melisende stopped him saying anything further. She didn't blame him for thinking that, for she wasn't wearing any armor, preferring to move quickly on her way to the Keep. She wore a simple brown tunic, belted at the waist, with black tights and high leather boots, a dagger concealed in her right boot. Her waist long brown hair was tied back and braided. A cloak rested on her shoulders. She certainly didn't give off the airs of a Grey Warden.

"No matter, just take me to see the Commander, please."

"Yes, yes, right away. Didn't expect there were more Wardens, you don't sound Orlesian…" the guard muttered under his breath as he led her towards the keep.

He led Melisende into a large hall-like room with an equally large hearth in the centre. Through the softly swaying flames, Melisende glimpsed the glint of his golden-flame coloured hair and the shine of his armor. _Tristan_. At the sound of their feet, he turned around and grinned mischievously, as if they had never parted. Melisende realized with a sudden pang just how much she had missed her friend.

"Melisende, you are here, finally," he said as she halted in front of him. He embraced her.

"Commander," she said, smiling as he let her go. He turned to the man of middle years beside him.

"This is Seneschal Varel, Varel this is Melisende Cousland, Grey Warden extraordinaire."

"Oh please," said Melisende as she locked arms with Varel in greeting, and then added, "pleased to meet you, Varel."

"As I am to you," Varel replied. "We need all the Wardens we can get."

"What exactly happened here? I heard the Vigil was attacked," Melisende inquired.

"Yes, I had the most interesting welcome party. There was a horde of darkspawn invading the Keep just as I arrived. But that's not even the interesting part. They were led by a talking darkspawn," Tristan explained. Melisende regarded him with disbelief.

"You are jesting, right?" when Tristan made no reply, she continued, "A talking darkspawn? How odd. I gather you handled the problem. Alone?"

"No, not alone." Tristan chuckled lightly. "I am not that talented. Our good friend Oghren is here. There was also Mhairi, and a mage, Anders."

"I see. Oghren?"

"Yes, he is a Grey Warden now. Mhairi, unfortunately did not survive the joining. But Anders and Oghren did, and I have recruited another since then." 

"The survivors will be glad to know another Warden has arrived, and one which helped end the Blight no less," said Varel.

"Anyhow, we will speak more later. Surely, you are tired from your journey. I will show you to your sleeping quarters," Tristan began leading her away. "It really is good to see you again…"

"Thank you. I am a bit disappointed that I missed out on killing some darkspawn."

"Ha, surely that's not the last we'll see of them. Those hellspawn are annoying as ever and now I fear that they will be even more so now they can speak. Anyway, you'll get your chance Melisende."

…

As Tristan was leading Melisende to the sleeping quarters, a guard of the Keep caught up to them, and clearing his throat, caught their attention.

"Commander, Sergeant Maverlies begs an audience with you."

"Is it urgent?" Tristan asked, a trace of annoyance in his voice.

"She would prefer to see you immediately. It regards the darkspawn attack." The guard flicked an apologetic look toward Tristan, noticing the man's irritation.

"Alright, I'll be there immediately," Tristan turned to Melisende and when the footsteps of the guard receded, he let out a rolling sigh. "Well, duty calls. You'll have to escort yourself. The room is at the end of the hall. I apologize…"

"No worries, Tristan, or should I call you Commander from now on?" Melisende interrupted.

Tristan chuckled. "Perhaps 'Commander' is too strong a title, at least in private. Anyway, I will take my leave of you now. We'll talk later," with that, Tristan strode off.

Melisende stood alone in the quickly darkening hallway. She suddenly felt the weariness of her journey wash over her. She tried to stifle a yawn, to no avail. Her lids felt heavy. _Better find that bed quickly_, she thought.

The sound of footsteps treading down the hallway became audible to Melisende. A soft light illuminated the growing darkness behind her. A man holding a torch came up beside her. She could see nothing but the fire for a moment.

"It's a little dark in here, isn't it, m'lady?" he said. As he shifted the torch, she could see the man more clearly. He was wearing leather armour, of medium height, and carried a bow on his back. He had shoulder length black hair, the two front locks pulled to the back. His kind, dark eyes and slight smile stood out. _And that nose_, Melisende thought tiredly, _it looks familiar_.

"Have you lost your way?" he enquired after a moment, looking a little uncomfortable at Melisende's close scrutiny of his face.

"I… no, I am just tired. I am on my way to the sleeping quarters," Melisende answered.

"I see. I will escort you there, if you'd like, as I'm already on my way there."

"Fine, let us go."

They walked in silence for a few seconds.

"I am Nathaniel, by the way," the man chimed in.

"Melisende," she nodded in reply.

"The Grey Warden?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes."

"I… am a new recruit." 

"Oh, yes. Tristan mentioned a new recruit. He told me of Oghren and the mage Anders, but not of you. I am pleased to meet you."

They had reached the end of the hall. Nathaniel gestured to a room on the right. Melisende could see a few beds, mostly unoccupied. She turned to thank Nathaniel, but he was already gone. _Strange_, she thought, _I thought he was headed this way_.

"Well, who is this ravishing cloaked woman come into our sleeping quarters? I must already be dreaming. Tell me, what are you waiting for? Get under the covers woman!" said a man with a blonde ponytail, lounging on one of the beds.

"Well shave my back and call me an elf! It's Melisende finally come to join us!" said a dwarf, sitting in a corner. The blonde man looked slightly disappointed as he realized that he was in fact awake.

"Oghren, I was surprised to hear you joined the order," Melisende said to the dwarf. She sat on a bed and removed her cloak.

"Not disappointed are you?" Oghren chuckled.

"No, of course not," Melisende replied, a little sarcastically. "You must be Anders then."

"That's me." Anders primped his face.

"Well, it is nice to meet you. If you don't mind, I'm really tired and would love to just go to sleep."

"Want some company?" Anders playfully asked.

"No thanks," Melisende half laughed. She crawled under the covers and soon fell into a blissful sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter II

"We are going exploring today, my good comrades," Tristan exclaimed the next morning. "The darkspawn are thought to have breached the lovely basements of Vigil's Keep and so that is our destination. Oghren, Nathaniel and Melisende, you are all coming with me. Anders, keep watch here." 

"Right, I'll go see if the lovely private over there has any messages," Anders said, winking, then sauntering off only too happily.

"Well, I never liked underground anything, but since I'm eager to get my arms working again, I guess this'll do for a first mission," Melisende mused out loud. Tristan gave her a gentle pat on the back.

"That's what I like to hear," he said. "Nathaniel, you must know these cellars like the back of your hand, why don't you lead the way."

"It's been a while, but I guess I can't refuse the Commander's orders," Nathaniel replied.

Melisende stood rooted to the ground in disbelief as Nathaniel and Tristan disappeared into the cellar's entrance.

"Well, aren't you coming?" Oghren's voice pined in.

_Why would Nathaniel know the cellars? Unless… no, surely Tristan would have warned her_. Melisende grabbed Oghren by the beard.

"Tell me, is that Nathaniel _Howe_?" she pleaded with Oghren. Oghren winced a little. "Tell me, Oghren!"

Oghren nodded. She let him go.

"I thought you already knew," he said, smoothing out his beard. She shook her head. "Well this will be interesting. Word is he already threatened the Commander. Ha, if he finds out you were the one…" 

"Shut up! Let us go. And dwarf, watch my back, please." 

They headed down to the musty and bleak old cellars, Oghren muttering about how the Commander had a fondness for keeping around people who wanted to kill him.

…

Melisende's time in the cellar was spent fuming over Tristan's forgotten little detail about the new recruit. She angrily hacked at the walking corpses and skeletons, twirling around in a rage so frightening.

She watched Nathaniel as he strung his bow, as he shot at the undead monsters. She could feel he was as tense as she was. She watched in her bitterness as he realized that his childhood nurse was trapped underground. She became enraged at herself when she felt pity that the nurse was tainted. She sliced and diced the darkspawn in such anger that even Tristan noticed that something was amiss, though he mentioned nothing until they were back on the surface.

"Are you okay? I've never seen you go so berserk before," Tristan asked when they were back in the Keep's main hall. Melisende gave an exasperated laugh in reply.

"Nathaniel Howe, you recruited Nathaniel _Howe_ into the Grey Wardens? Do you not remember what the Howes did to my family?" she shouted.

"Calm down, Melisende," Tristan held out his hand in a calming gesture but Melisende brushed him away. Nathaniel, meanwhile, came walking into the room.

"I heard my name. There is no way I will stand in the shadows and let my family's name be dragged through the dirt, yet again," Nathaniel angrily said, though in a calm manner. "Look, I don't know what happened to the Couslands. But from what I hear, it was horrible. The entire war was. But what my father did shouldn't harm my entire family."

"Your father was a traitorous, cowardly snake who murdered my family!" Melisende yelled. She walked right up to Nathaniel. They were inches away from each other.

"And you are my father's murderer." Nathaniel replied so quietly, it was infuriating.

"You don't deserve to be a Warden!" Melisende spat back. 

"So the son should pay for his father's actions?" 

"I killed your father. He deserved to die. I spit on him and I spit on you. The Howes deserve to be wiped off the land, to be pariahs forever!" Melisende's hand went to her dagger, but Tristan quickly caught hold of it, twisted Melisende around and dragged her away from Nathaniel, who still stood stoically calm.

"Melisende, enough!" Tristan commanded loudly. "You are making a scene. Come with me, now." Tristan dragged her off to the kitchens and sat her down.

"You are acting insane," he told her.

"Maybe I am," Melisende replied. Tristan sighed. "No, actually I think you are the one that is insane, letting Nathaniel into the Wardens. How could you do this?"

"You know, as I know, that Nathaniel is nothing like his father was." 

"How should I know, Tristan? I've only just met him!" Melisende cried out.

"You know he was in the Free Marches for the past couple of years. He knew nothing of what his father was up to…" 

"And how do you know this? They could have written letters. How can you trust him? Wait, I know, he didn't kill your family!" Melisende stood up, pushing the table away from her in anger and frustration.

"And he didn't kill yours!" Tristan exclaimed. "Sit down!" 

"I am not a child."

"Well you sure are acting like one."

"I will not listen to this anymore. I am going." 

"Where?"

"What do you care? You obviously don't give a damn about me."

Tristan sighed. Melisende stomped out of the kitchens before he could say anything else. She grabbed a jug of ale on her way out. Tristan was too busy shaking his head in annoyance and exasperation to notice.

…

A few minutes later, Melisende found herself breathing in fresh, crisp air. The sun was setting, and she gazed at the sky from atop the battlements of Vigil's Keep. She gulped down a bit of the ale.

_Ugh, what am I doing?_ _Fergus would throttle me if he saw me right now. And the scene I just caused? Of course, he always enjoyed a good drink after a hard day's work. But I'm losing myself again. All because of Nathaniel. Why did he have to be here?_

Melisende went over the day's events in her mind. The image of Nathaniel in anguish over the state of his childhood nanny did not, surprisingly, bring her any pleasure. She thought of her own nurse, Nan. Melisende smiled as she remembered the mischief her mabari hound, Loki, had caused Nan that day long ago when Rendon Howe attacked Cousland Castle. There she went again, thinking of Howe's betrayal. She had been so polite to him, even wishing him well. _That bastard_. Melisende sighed.

Nathaniel reminded her so much of Arl Howe, she couldn't help being angry. But maybe Tristan was right, maybe she was being too harsh. She did remember hearing Fergus mention that Nathaniel had been in the Free Marches the whole time of the Blight. It was possible Nathaniel knew nothing of his father's treachery. But the other alternative could easily be truer. No, she couldn't trust him so easily. She could be civil to him, but if he so much as gave a hint of betrayal, by the Maker, she would kill him.

She finished the rest of her ale and fell asleep under the stars.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter III

The next day Melisende found herself in Amaranthine with Tristan, Anders, and Nathaniel. She had a splitting headache. She had been staying as far away from Nathaniel as she could, promising Tristan she wouldn't start any trouble.

"We have a few things to investigate here, so I'm going to split us up. I will try and find these hunters who spotted darkspawn. Anders, I want you to speak with Mervis. Melisende, can you try and find out anything about Kristoff, the missing Orlesian Warden?" Tristan asked.

"Yes," Melisende winced, "I'll do that."

"Commander, may I have your leave to seek out my sister?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes, but I may need you later. Alright, get to it everyone." Tristan shooed everyone off. Melisende quickly walked away, hoping to avoid having to deal with any of her companions. She was feeling way too grumpy to be pleasant, and she didn't want to have to pretend everything was alright. She didn't know much about Amaranthine and so ended up wandering aimlessly for a few minutes. _How am I supposed to know where Kristoff could be? _She whined in her thoughts.

"You might try the inn." Nathaniel's voice broke in behind her, startling her. She turned around to face him.

"I don't need your help," she told him. "Besides, I was already headed that way."

Nathaniel smirked. "Well, I guess you're taking the long way there. Enjoying the scenery then, are you?"

Melisende gazed at him with slight contempt. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"I'll see you later, _m'lady_." Nathaniel said, and then walked away, a smug look on his face.

"Hmpf." Melisende said to herself, and then made her way to the inn, the Crown and Lion. She could see it in the distance and realized with annoyance that Nathaniel was right. If she had went the other way she could have gotten there sooner. _No matter_, she thought, _Kristoff might not even be there._

She entered the inn. The smell of liquor tasted sweet as it reached her tongue. The few rowdy patrons looked up at her in curiousity. One of them whistled at her as she walked by. She glared at him menacingly and he turned his attention elsewhere. Melisende walked up to the innkeeper.

"Welcome lady. I'm afraid we've no rooms at the moment," the innkeeper said.

"No worries, I am here looking for someone. His name is Kristoff, a Grey Warden, Orlesian. Have you seen him? Is he staying here?" Melisende asked.

"You're not trouble, are you?" the innkeeper suspiciously asked. Melisende rolled her eyes.

"No, I am a Grey Warden also," she replied.

"Well…" the innkeeper scrutinized her closely. He obviously didn't think a woman could be a Grey Warden. "If you say so," he finally concurred.

"Oh please, just answer my question. I promise you I am a Grey Warden and I am not trouble," Melisende said, trying to stay calm. It was getting harder to do these days. She always used to be calm, cool, and collected. Now she just wanted to throttle everyone.

"Alright lady. He did have a room here. But he hasn't been back for a while now. You can talk to Sorcha over there, she may know more about him." 

"Thank you sir," she said, and then muttered under her breath, "was that so hard?"

Melisende went upstairs and talked to Sorcha, who didn't know much more about Kristoff than the innkeeper, but pointed Melisende to his room. It was locked. Since she didn't feel like talking to the insolent innkeeper again, she picked the lock and broke into the room. She found some of his things, including a journal. She quickly skimmed through it. Melisende also found a map, with the Blackmarsh pinpointed. _That must be where he went, _she thought. She took the journal and left the room, going back downstairs. She couldn't resist, she sat down for a drink. She would have had another, but figured the others might be waiting for her. So she left the inn.

Outside, she wondered where to go. She saw the chantry not far away and decided to go wait there, though she didn't plan on going inside. She wasn't much for religion anymore. As she walked up the stairs she spotted a large statue of Andraste. Beyond that, she spotted a familiar grey-haired figure.

"Wynne!" she shouted in surprise. Wynne waved her over. Melisende jogged over to Wynne and grabbed hold of her in a fierce hug.

"Oh child, it hasn't been that long," Wynne laughed.

"It's so good to see you. What are you doing here?" Melisende asked, releasing Wynne.

"I'm on my way to Cumberland, a meeting of the mages," Wynne explained.

"Oh, mage business. Have you run into Tristan yet?"

"I haven't had the pleasure. Tell me child, how are you doing?" Wynne asked, concern visible on her face.

"Well, I'm just fine, Wynne…" Melisende replied, a little unconvincingly for Wynne's ears.

"Now you don't have to pretend with old Wynne. Ever since you left court, I've heard some rumours about you, going on the bender so to speak. I was hoping they weren't true, as that does not sound like the Melisende I know. But meeting you here… you look… tense." Wynne explained. Melisende sighed.

"I'm just… I…" before Melisende could say anything else, Tristan appeared, greeting Wynne warmly.

"I hope I am not interrupting?" he asked.

"No," Melisende replied quickly. She stood silently by while Wynne and Tristan conversed about mage business, then about personal things.

"You aren't missing Leliana too much?" Wynne asked Tristan.

"Of course, I think of her every day. But, this is my duty, for now at least. We will be reunited eventually." Tristan replied, his face lighting up at the mention of Leliana. "We really must be going, though. Wynne, you are always welcome at Vigil's Keep, should you become bored, or miss us too much."

Wynne laughed. "I shall remember that, and hopefully you won't regret inviting me, for I know I meddle too much in your personal affairs."

"I would have it no other way. I'm sure Alistair misses your sock mending abilities," Tristan laughed, embraced Wynne and turned around. Melisende did the same, but Wynne grabbed hold of her arm before she could walk away.

"If you have need of anything, send me a letter please. Anything, I mean it. You are like a daughter to me, and I hate to see you in so much pain." Wynne whispered in Melisende's ear.

"Thank you, Wynne." Melisende replied, smiled, and caught up to Tristan.

…

That night, Melisende spent a little too much time with Oghren by the dining hall fire.

"So how's it workin' out with you an' Felsi?" Melisende asked, slurring her words.

Oghren grunted then replied, "She don't even know what I'm up to…"

"How…romantic," Melisende said. "I bet I can out drink you Oghren."

"Ha, your brother Fergus couldn't even outdo me, what makes you think you can? You're already sodding drunk!"

"Let me tell you a secret. You can't tell anyone Oghren. You have to promise. D'you promise?"

"Oh, this should be good. I promise." Oghren nodded.

"You don't have your toes crossed do you?" Melisende asked.

"No, do you wanna check?"

"NO! I believe you." Melisende held her hands up in submission. There was no way she was going to let Oghren show her his smelly feet.

"Well, out with it then!" Oghren prodded Melisende.

"The secret is this. Fergus is not as tough as he looks. I'm the toughest in the family." Melisende explained, wagging her hand back in forth in a drunken gesture.

"That's it? I mean you did help to end the Blight there's no surprise there. You made me swear to this?" Oghren exclaimed in disbelief, looking a little cross as well.

"No, no, there's more. Fergus," Melisende paused, looked left to right, as if making sure no one was around to hear what she was about to say, then continued, "he likes flowers. He says they pretty. He gets very elemental about them."

"Sentimental?"

"What? You're not making sense Ogre. Now you have to face me. You have to face the tougher Cousland. Or are you afraid?"

Oghren just sat there, shaking his head, but with a big grin on his face. He touched his beard in thought. "She's lost it," he muttered under his breath. "Fine, ol' Oghren never backs down from a drinking challenge. Bring it on Cousland!"

With those words, the two of them swigged ale until Melisende passed out, losing the challenge.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

The next morning, Melisende, her eyes still closed, but her mind becoming aware of a nagging pain in her head and a wave of nausea building up in her stomach, found herself still in the dining room. Something was licking her hand. It felt rough and tickled. She opened her eyes to see the culprit, an orange cat.

"Ah, Ser-Pounce-a-lot has found a new friend!" Anders' voice rang out. The light hurt Melisende's eyes and she had to squint. The other Wardens were there. Melisende could see Oghren grinning in the back. He and Anders chuckled, while Nathaniel looked slightly disgusted. A disappointed looking Tristan made his way over to Melisende.

"Well it looks like you're in no condition to accompany us to the Knotwood Hills," he said, offering a hand to Melisende to arise.

"Wha? Nonsense, I'm…" she stumbled a little getting up, and if Tristan didn't have a hold on her she would have fallen on her behind. More chuckles from Anders and Oghren. Melisende shot both of them murderous glances. "I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure them all, but she could feel something coming up her throat. She tried to swallow it back down.

"Oh Maker," she blurted, covered her mouth, and then dashed out of the room. In the hall, she found a dark corner and vomited. Tristan followed slowly behind her, holding up her long braid so she wouldn't vomit on her hair.

"Must have been something I ate," she said when she was done emptying out her stomach.

"Yes, and I'm the Empress of Orlais." Tristan replied. Before Melisende could say anything else, he continued firmly and seriously, "Look, you're staying here. I don't know what's the matter with you, but you're clearly no use to anybody right now. So pull yourself together. We'll talk more when I return." With that, Tristan turned around and promptly left. Melisende stood in the hall, holding her head and looking at her feet in disbelief. _Tristan never kept me from a mission before._

"The Commander has left me in charge of the Keep's Wardens while he is away." Nathaniel's voice disturbed her thoughts. She looked up at him, intending to flash another murderous glance, but instead she turned shamefully away from him as she saw the look of pity on his face, mingled with slight revulsion.

"You remind me of my brother. He drank too much all the time, vomited on shoes. Poor Thomas." Nathaniel sighed.

"Just leave me be!" Melisende exclaimed, and then ran off.

…

The next few days went by slowly for Melisende. All she could think of was the look on Tristan's face when he told her they would talk when he got back. That was not a look of concern. That was a serious look. A look someone bearing bad news would have. _Oh Maker_, she thought day in and day out, _he's going to throw me out of the order. Can he do that? Surely he can't. How disgraceful that would be_.

Melisende also felt hurt that he had said she was of "no use" to anybody. She had lately thought that of herself, she admitted. But hearing that from a friend stung so horribly. She had actually cried herself to sleep that night, a rare event and one which she had not done in a long time.

Then there was Nathaniel. His pity mingled with revulsion for her was driving her mad. She felt ashamed. How dare he make her feel that way? Why did she even care what he thought of her? His father was the reason she was here instead of living a peaceful, blissful existence. Of course, the Blight was the main culprit, but she was too bitter to admit that at the moment.

_Away with the what-ifs. Your life is what it is. There is good and there is bad that came from the actions of one man_, she thought. Still, she couldn't understand why she cared for what Nathaniel thought. Nevertheless, she decided to just avoid him as much as she could.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter V

It was a crisp, clear night, and Melisende was up on the battlements, gazing at the sky. It had been a few days since the others had been gone and she had been mostly successful at avoiding Nathaniel. However, her luck was about to run out as he came out of the shadows, like he always seemed to do, and startled her. He said nothing, just looked out over the Keep.

Melisende took the opportunity to scrutinize him more closely. _He doesn't really look all that much like his father, besides that nose, _she thought. _He's actually quite handsome… _Nathaniel turned his gaze toward her at that moment and she blushed. She looked away quickly.

_Thank the Maker it's dark._ _What am I to blush so easily, a maiden? _She chided herself. _I caused all the blushing with Alistair_…

"Nice night," she said to stop her thoughts from racing, and to break the silence that was beginning to irritate her.

"Hmm," Nathaniel replied. Melisende glanced his way again. Nathaniel was watching her, his face a solemn expression reflecting the mood of the night. "I owe you an apology."

Melisende regarded him with surprise. "Whatever for?"

"I should have believed what everyone said of my father, of what he did to your family. That he was evil. I was in the Free Marches for eight years, I had no idea how much he had changed." Nathaniel explained with sadness audible in his voice. Melisende was speechless. "When I heard that he had been murdered by the Grey Wardens, and one of them a Cousland at that, I thought I might seek you out in vengeance. But I was given a second chance at life and now I understand why you did what you did. It doesn't make it any easier to bear, but… I do apologize."

"Nathaniel, you… are too kind. You couldn't have known what he was up to, and now I see that. I accept your apology, and I add my own to it. I have treated you horribly for something your father did, when all of it should have already been well laid to rest with his death. Enough people have died!" Melisende cried out. She turned away from Nathaniel. She felt like she was going to cry and didn't want him to see.

"Melisende," he said gently. She shuddered as he spoke her name, but she didn't turn to face him. _Oh Maker, I'm going to bawl my eyes out in front of him. Why? _A few tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, like the first few rain drops before the inevitable storm.

"Your brother Fergus and I used to know each other very well as boys. Our fathers used to be friends. I now get angry when I think of what my father did. The betrayal… it is despicable. I am sorry for what he did Melisende. If I could have been there to stop him…"

"It wasn't your fault Nathaniel. I'm sorry I ever said so…" Melisende choked out. A moment passed by in silence. She tried to check her tears, willing them to stay inside. She did not turn to face Nathaniel.

"Then I am glad we cleared the air," he broke the silence, "maybe now we can get some work done."

Melisende was still facing the other way. Her tears had finally dried out. _I feel like an idiot. He knows I was crying. Stupid Melisende, _she cursed in her head.

She felt his warm hand rest on her shoulder. She shivered with… pleasure? She quickly jerked around and away. Her cheeks were burning yet again. She tried to look him in the eye, but couldn't bring herself to do so, afraid he would see her sudden passion. She wanted to bid him good night, but her tongue would not work. Instead she gave a quick, short curtsy, and then made a hasty retreat towards the interior of the Keep. All she could hear as she walked away was a short, but sweet "m'lady" coming out of Nathaniel's newly sensuous mouth. _Stupid, stupid, Melisende_ was all she could hear in her thoughts, and Nathaniel was all she could see.

…

In the darkest hours of that night, Melisende, in a dreamy half-conscious state heard the door to the sleeping quarters creak open. For a split second she thought it could be Nathaniel, but no, there were too many footsteps. Besides, Nathaniel didn't even use the sleeping quarters; she thought he must have a secret nook somewhere. Melisende was grateful for that, or at least she used to be.

She looked up at the doorway and spotted Anders, Oghren, and a dwarven woman come in. Oghren was whispering something obscene, which made Anders giggle but garnered a shushing from the dwarven woman.

_Hmm, they're back_, Melisende thought before sleep overtook her.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

The next morning, Melisende found herself heading to Tristan's chambers. As Commander of the Grey Wardens and as Lord of Amaranthine, Varel insisted he have his own, though Melisende knew he would have remained with the others if he had had a choice in the matter. Tristan was not expecting her, and so Melisende was feeling a little anxious, her chest feeling strained and her breath a little hard to find. She wanted to know as soon as possible if she were still a Grey Warden or not. She reached his door, took a deep, unsatisfying breath, and knocked twice.

The door opened, revealing a worried and disheveled looking Tristan. His hair was wet and hanging over his shoulders. He was wearing plain clothes. Melisende was surprised to see him this way. She had never seen him without armor, or at the very least it had been a while since she had, for he had as an arcane warrior, tended to always wear some sort of mail. He looked tired as well.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have bothered you." Melisende said, wishing she hadn't come after all.

"No, it's fine, come in." Tristan smile and motioned her into the room. "Varel says I am to hold court today. I'll never get used to being a lord. Too much talking in front of crowds for my liking."

"Ah, so that's why you are sparkling this morn'." Melisende joked.

"Well, I cannot face the nobles full of gore." Tristan laughed. "Since you're here, do you mind doing me a favour?"

"What do you need?"

Tristan pointed to his hair. "Would you fix this mess for me? Leliana usually liked to do this for me, but since she's not here…"

Melisende smiled. "Of course." She went over to Tristan, who stood ready to be groomed. Melisende grabbed hold of his hair, which was surprisingly soft, and began to brush it.

"You should just cut it, like Alistair. It would be much easier to manage." Melisende commented as she divided his hair into parts.

"But do you remember how much time he spent on his hair? He spent more time arranging it then Lel, Morrigan, and you put together." Tristan replied. Melisende laughed.

"You're right, he certainly did!" Melisende was surprised that talking of Alistair was not affecting her in any way at all; no rage, no sadness.

"Besides, I like having long hair. It sends shudders of ecstasy down my spine when beautiful women run their hands through it." Tristan said.

"How poetic," Melisende giggled, then continued, "and I, as your woman friend, do I send shudders down your spine?"

"Ah Melisende, you make many men shudder with desire." Tristan sighed.

"Flatterer."

"You never could take a compliment, could you?"

Melisende finished braiding Tristan's hair. "There, all done," she said. Tristan turned around, took hold of Melisende's right hand, brought it slowly to his mouth, and then laid a gentle kiss on it. He let it go just as quickly.

"Thank you, my friend," he said.

"You lout! What would Leliana say?" Melisende joked.

"She would say nothing. I am simply thanking my friend for her help." Tristan grinned. He motioned for her to sit down, which she did. He in turn took a seat in front of her. "So my friend, why are you coming to visit at such an early hour?"

Melisende was now in such a good mood that she had to think for a moment the reason she was there. Tristan's jesting had calmed her anxiety without her realizing it.

"I wanted to know what your plans were for me, after I… disgraced myself," she finally said. "Am I to remain a Warden?"

"Silly Melisende, of course you are to remain a Warden. You never can truly leave, you know."

"Well, the way you left…"

"Look, I'm sorry. It is my fault you are not yourself…"

"What? Surely you cannot blame yourself for what is happening to me?"

"But I do," Tristan sighed. "You see, I know when this all started. At the Landsmeet. I should have explained to you my plans. I betrayed you and Alistair. I was a fool. I never apologized. I never even tried to see how you felt. And then I ordered you here and I didn't tell you about Nathaniel. Frankly, I am surprised you even still consider me your friend. I truly am sorry."

All signs of jests were gone. Tristan looked forlorn and weary. Melisende was stunned. Everything Tristan was saying was true, but it wasn't his fault. She never even thought to blame him. She never thought he would feel guilty for what she was going through.

"Tristan, there is no need to apologize to me. You didn't force me to the bottle, to become a fool. All you did was for the good of Ferelden. I understand that. You were forced into the position of making decisions… Please, don't blame yourself."

"Well I do. And I insist you accept my apology," he flashed her a playful grin in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Fine, but I still think you're too hard on yourself."

"Aren't we all?" he mused. "But anyway, you are looking better. I heard you behaved yourself in my absence?"

"Spying on me, are you?" Melisende beamed. "Yes, I behaved. And just so you know, Nathaniel and I have come to an understanding."

"Oh?" Tristan replied, a little taken aback. "In any case, that is good news, as that means you can both accompany me to the Wending Wood." 

"I would like that."

"However, I want you, noble lady, to attend court with me. My commonness begs for help from someone better suited to deal with these things…" 

"Well, when you put it that way, how can a lady refuse?" Melisende laughed. "Of course I will attend court with you." Melisende stood up, but as Tristan was rising, he reached for his head and fell back into his seat. Alarmed, Melisende reached for him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern visible on her face. "You're not dying, like Wynne, are you?"

Tristan chuckled. "No, no. Why do you say that? Because we are both mages? Don't forget we Grey Wardens are on borrowed time as well." 

"I didn't forget, I just stored that information in a box in the back of my head. But seriously, are you alright?"

"I only fell Melisende. I'm just tired. That is all. I've got a splitting headache to boot, but nothing to fuss about. And certainly no reason to jump to deathly conclusions."

"Can you blame me? Especially after that heart-to-heart? And you do look a little worried and worn out…" Melisende remarked. Tristan sighed, closing his eyes.

"What is bothering you? Not the job at hand, surely? You did unite Ferelden without a bat of the eye." Melisende probed further. Tristan sighed again.

"It's Morrigan."

"Morrigan? Has she showed her face?" Melisende asked, astonished to think that Morrigan could be around.

"No… you must promise not to say anything to the others…"

"Is this about the archdemon? We all thought you would be dead." Melisende was curious. She crouched by Tristan and leaned in, hoping to find out more.

"Sort of. Will you promise?"

"Yes, of course. I promise. Now tell me."

Tristan paused, and then began. "Well by what Riordan said, I, at least, should be dead. But I am not, thanks to Morrigan. No doubt you already suspected as much. I can see it in your face."

"I did." Melisende agreed.

"Morrigan knew of a ritual taught to her by Flemeth which would save the Wardens from having to serve the ultimate sacrifice. I was wary at first, but she somehow convinced me it was the best option. After all, Alistair could not die, for he was to be king, I couldn't bear to see you die, and I certainly didn't want to die, knowing what that would do to Leliana." 

"Hmm," Melisende pondered. _I was ready to die_. "What was this ritual? Blood magic?"

"It was a ritual which would absorb the essence of the old god into Morrigan's unborn child." Tristan bluntly stated.

"Morrigan's unborn child… you mean yours and Morrigan's unborn child?" Melisende asked in disbelief.

"Yes, since I am still alive, we no doubt conceived a child that night before the battle. Morrigan is out there, carrying my child. Maybe even birthed it already for all I know…" Tristan looked so very vulnerable at that moment. Melisende's heart broke for him. He clearly wanted to know what happened. She was not accustomed to seeing him this way. She really wanted to give him a hug, but she held back.

"I see. No wonder you are troubled. I am surprised you let her go."

"She made me promise never to seek her or the child out. But I cannot help thinking of it… and I certainly cannot tell Leliana…"

"I always knew Morrigan was trouble." Melisende blurted out.

"She saved our lives. Now then, I wish to talk of this no further. I must get ready for court." Tristan got up and gave Melisende a pleading look.

"Don't worry; your secret is safe with me." With those words, Melisende turned to leave the chambers, but not before patting Tristan on the back to comfort him.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

Later that day, after Tristan held court and after the dwarven woman, Sigrun, undertook the Joining successfully, the Wardens gathered together in the kitchens.

"I just want to let everyone know what is happening. About the Knotwood Hills, we found and killed the source of the darkspawn." Tristan explained, honing in on Nathaniel and Melisende, who were not present to see that accomplished.

"Those sure were some ugly broodmothers." Anders commented.

"We also discovered a new darkspawn. Slimy, little, wormy creatures. And, what else?" Tristan asked.

"It looked like the darkspawn were fighting each other." Sigrun added.

"Really?" Melisende asked.

"Oh yeah, it is a little unsettling. We really have to find Kristoff. But I think our next move should be the Wending Wood. The merchants are complaining to no end. We have to open the trade route," Tristan said. "We'll head out tomorrow, you and you." He nodded at Melisende and Nathaniel.

"What'll we do?" Sigrun asked.

"Rest up."

"What, no rest for you?" Anders asked Tristan.

"No."

"The Commander's no sissy boy Anders," Oghren offered his opinion, "and neither am I. But if he wants me to stay behind, then I will. I'll just keep guard on the drink supply."

"How original, a dwarf guarding the drink supply." Anders retorted.

"In any case," Tristan interrupted, "I had some disturbing news today at court. Ser Tamra has been murdered. She was supposed to bring me proof of a possible conspiracy against the Wardens. Her death makes it apparent that the conspiracy is probably real."

"And you neglected to tell us of this conspiracy until now?" Melisende inquired.

"I didn't think it a real threat. And I still think we shouldn't worry too much. However, be vigilant anyway. Who knows the minds of these nobles anyway?" Tristan answered nonchalantly.

"I would caution against simply brushing off this conspiracy. I know these nobles, they can be ruthless." Nathaniel said with a hint of warning in his voice.

"It is not the first time people have plotted against me. What would you have me do? Cower in fear? Hide in the Keep until it goes away? I cannot sit by. And I cannot go chasing leads. I have important things to do. The King is counting on me, on all of us. Just keep an eye out for one another. They will show their intentions sooner or later. They always do." Tristan replied, a little exasperated. He sat up and waved them off. "I must see to the affairs of the Keep. Go train or something."

Tristan left, frustration visible in the set of his shoulders and the clenching of his fists.

"What's up with him?" Oghren asked.

"Just leave him be. He has a lot on his mind." Melisende said as she herself arose and set off to take Tristan's advice to find a sparring partner.

…

The next morning, Melisende was walking toward the main hall when she heard Nathaniel and Oghren chatting. She stopped outside the doorway and listened in, curiousity getting the better of her. She also felt the need to resurrect her covertness, intending to find out about the supposed conspiracy if she could.

"Were you there, when my father was killed?" Nathaniel asked Oghren. Melisende's heart skipped. This was not what she was expecting to hear. She almost wanted to turn away, but couldn't. She peeked at the scene. Nathaniel looked forlorn.

"Don't go digging in the dust for things laid to rest. It does no one any good." Oghren replied with a sigh.

"Whatever people say about him, he was still my father. And I just want to know if he… if he suffered." Nathaniel continued. Melisende closed her eyes and re-played the memory of vengeance in her head. She did not get any pleasure anymore at that moment. It had long passed. Oghren sighed.

"I'm not the person to ask, Nathaniel."

"Very well, then, Oghren. Evade the question."

Oghren gave Nathaniel a pat on the back and walked away. Melisende decided to enter the room.

"I'm not as heartless as you think," she told Nathaniel. He gazed at her with a look so unexpectedly sad that her heart actually skipped a beat.

"I never said that," he replied.

"Excuse me, but you give that look every time you speak of your father."

"That's not for you."

"Oh… well, then, if you must know. I don't know what good it will do you…"

"Please," Nathaniel begged, "it will ease my mind."

"Very well then." Melisende sighed, and then continued. "Your father put up a fight. Valiant, I'll admit, if he were not insane. I struck the death blow, but he continued sputtering more venom until the end. I had enough, and slit his throat. It was as much a mercy to my ears as it was to him. So, no, your father did not really suffer, though at the time, I would have loved nothing more than to prolong his agony… Are you happy now?"

"I… what were his last words?"

The image of Rendon Howe lying on the ground, bleeding, and willing a curse onto her flashed into Melisende's mind.

"Nothing nice. Really, let us leave this in the past from now on. Please, we only just came to an understanding. I do not wish to quarrel with you again," Melisende pleaded. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Very well, my lady." Nathaniel walked toward the doorway. "Shall we go find the Commander then?"

"Yes." Melisende also walked toward the exit. Nathaniel grabbed her arm as she was about to pass through. Melisende tensed up. He stood eye to eye with her. She felt a flicker of fear pass through her body, as quick and erratic as a lightning bolt.

"Thank you. For what it's worth, you have helped to ease my mind," he whispered. All Melisende could do was nod. He let her go and continued out of the room.

_What an odd situation_, she thought, _I murdered his father and he's thanking me… what has the world come to? _Melisende followed after him.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII

They found Tristan outside the Keep, chatting with Herren and Wade. Wade was complaining about having to make ordinary gear for ordinary soldiers, while Tristan was trying to make some sort of deal with them. In the meantime, Melisende leaned against a support pole and bit into an apple to pass the time. While she munched loudly, Nathaniel gave her a strange look.

"What?" she glared at him.

He cleared his throat and nodded towards her feet. Puzzled, Melisende looked down, then gasped in surprise as a boy of about ten years was succeeding in pulling her concealed dagger from her boot. The boy, in turn, looked up in surprise, and then quickly dashed away with her dagger in hand.

"Hey!" Melisende exclaimed loudly. She dropped her apple then quickly began running after the curly, blonde-haired ruffian. His little legs were no match for her long strides and she quickly caught up with him. She caught him by his collar and swung him around to face her. He looked petrified.

"What do you think you're doing, you little thief?" she asked him. He threw the dagger on the ground and held his hands up in submission.

"Here, take it back! Let me go!" he pleaded. "I was just having a little fun, honest!"

"Oh, since when is stealing, _from a Grey Warden no less_, fun?" she loosened her grip on the boy, but didn't let him go. Nathaniel quietly walked over to see what was happening.

"What's your name boy?" Nathaniel asked.

"Samuel Longshot," the boy replied. He no longer looked so petrified.

"And where are your parents, Samuel Longshot? Should I tell them of your thieving ways?" Melisende asked.

"My mother don't give a fig about me. Do what you like." Samuel said, defiance in his eyes.

"What about your father?" Melisende asked. "Surely he'd see you punished."

"I don't know where my father is. He went to fight darkspawn and never came home. He… he was supposed to teach me how to use a sword."

"I see… so I suppose you were going to teach yourself, with my dagger?"

"I only wanted your attention. I would have given it back. I swear!"

"You have a funny way of asking for lessons, lad." Melisende was reminded of her nephew Oren at that moment. A short wave of sadness washed over her.

"I saw you practicing with your swords. I like the way you fight with two swords and no shield. I think it's very brave." Samuel said excitedly. Melisende laughed.

"Well, even if you had asked the proper way, I would still say you were too young for swords." Melisende smiled. She let Samuel go. He rubbed his neck where his dirty tunic had pulled into his skin, turning it red.

"But if I was good, would you teach me?" he asked, hope shining in his emerald eyes. Melisende sighed.

"You are a strange child. I must be on my way. If I have heard you were good in my absence, then we shall see…" that reply was good enough for Samuel, who beamed from cheek to cheek.

"Oh, I promise I will be good," he shouted. He walked over to where he dropped the dagger, picked it up, wiped it off with his dirty tunic, and handed it back to Melisende. He shyly murmured an apology. Melisende chuckled.

"I only said… I didn't promise anything so don't get your hopes up."

Samuel shrugged, smiled, and then ran off into the village. Melisende sighed, and then turned around. Nathaniel was watching her with interest on his face.

"What!" she glared at him.

"I didn't say anything." Nathaniel replied, a smirk on his face.

"Thought I would rip his arms out, did you?" she said sarcastically.

"I never said that either."

"Ugh, you are impossible."

Nathaniel just smiled. Melisende glimpsed towards Herren's armor stand. Tristan was watching them with a bit of impatience. Or at least that was what Melisende thought as Tristan tapped his foot and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We better go," she said.

…

As the three of them were walking on the road towards the Wending Wood, Melisende couldn't help but wonder about Nathaniel. He had been quick to forgive her and the Grey Wardens for his father's death. She, on the other hand, had stubbornly refused to see Nathaniel as anything other than the evil spawn of Rendon Howe. Now that they had come to an understanding, she didn't know how she felt about Nathaniel.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was physically attracted to Nathaniel. But there was something else about him. She couldn't explain it, but it was there. She felt it. Some sort of connection. Maybe it was their circumstances – how they both ended up there, on the road, that very instant. Maybe it was something else. All she knew for sure was that she wanted to know the real Nathaniel, not Nathaniel the son of Rendon Howe, nor even Nathaniel the Grey Warden, just Nathaniel. This sudden change of heart surprised Melisende herself, yet she was unsure of what to do. _Whatever happens, happens_, she thought.

The sun made its journey across the sky while the trio walked, largely in silence. They were aware of the dangers lurking in the forests off the road. One moment of inattention and they could end up stumbling into an ambush. It was also a harsh wilderness; if there were not any darkspawn, then there were bears and wolves to look out for.

When the last of the sun's rays disappeared beyond the forest canopy, Tristan called for them to stop and rest. "We'll be close to the merchant's caravans tomorrow. For now, we sleep. I'll take first watch," he said.

They had only brought their cloaks, as they didn't want to be hampered by carrying around bulky blankets and the like. Melisende found a soft spot on the ground and sat down, stretching out her weary legs. She took out some dried food and began to nibble at it. Tristan wandered off to the edge of their makeshift camp and stood guard. Nathaniel chose a spot across from Melisende and lounged quietly on his cloak.

"Nathaniel?" Melisende ventured after a moment or two.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I don't see why not," Nathaniel replied, stifling a yawn.

"Why have you so easily forgiven… me?" Melisende timidly asked. She put her food down. Nathaniel sighed then sat up to face Melisende.

"You are a strange woman," he remarked.

"So, is that your answer? You've forgiven me because I am strange?"

"No, of course not," he shook his head, then continued, "I haven't really forgiven anything. I've just accepted that things are as they are. Though it's not as simple as that. It's just futile to keep fixating on the past."

"Not to mention a little unhealthy." Melisende thought of her obsession with revenge and how she had to put it out of her mind for a little while to move forward.

"I suppose that too," Nathaniel concurred.

"So, if you haven't as you said, forgiven anything, then do you still blame me for your family's downfall?" Melisende asked, a little confused by his answer.

"No, my father is to blame for that. No conspiracies, just one stupid, selfish man. I should have known better."

"How could you have known?"

"I should have dug deeper, _before_ I acted against the Wardens. Threatening the Commander like a buffoon. Slandering the Cousland name." Nathaniel had worked himself into a quiet rage. "And here you've even proven to be a friend of sorts. Or am I reading that wrong, too?"

"No, I'd like to be friends." Melisende replied, a little surprised that the sentiment had come out of her mouth.

"Good. Now, please, enough of this talk. I thought we agreed to leave the past where it is, in the past." 

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just wanted to understand you better." Melisende apologized.

"No matter. The Commander once told me how you redeemed the Cousland name. I hope to do the same for the Howes." 

"That is good."

"Right, but first I need to get some sleep. Good night, m'lady."

"Good night." Melisende lay down, wrapping herself in her cloak. She found it hard to fall asleep with Nathaniel so close, but the sweetness of slumber slowly enveloped her in darkness.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter IX

The trio of Wardens were back on the road as the sun rose, encasing the forest in its warm glow. They soon came upon the ruins of various merchant caravans.

"This doesn't look like the work of darkspawn," Tristan remarked at a burnt out wagon. They continued down the path, treading carefully. They had spotted some bandits sifting through the ruins before they arrived, running off, no doubt to warn the others of the Wardens' arrival. Sure enough, the bandits, scavengers more likely, decided to attack the trio further down the path.

"Are you responsible for all this?" Tristan asked them. They said nothing, only moving in for the attack, circling the Wardens like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves quarrying a sickly stag. They obviously had no inklings as to whom they were dealing with.

"Surrender and we will be merciful," Nathaniel warned.

The bandits struck at the trio. Tristan looked at Melisende then at Nathaniel as he blocked the first blow and the bandit backed off for reassessment. He shrugged, and then nodded towards the bandits.

"Defend yourselves then," Tristan nodded towards his comrades. Melisende smiled.

"Let's teach these scavengers a lesson in respect. Bandits, meet the Commander of the Greys and two of his faithful servants!" Melisende yelled as she attacked a duo.

The bandits outnumbered the Wardens almost three to one, but they were no match for the skillfully, highly trained warriors that were the Wardens. Tristan easily dispatched one using a freeze spell, and then shattered him into pieces with his sword. Melisende launched a frenzied attack with her two swords, slashing and stabbing the bandits from the side. Nathaniel calmly marked out bandits from afar and ever so patiently fired deadly shots at a few of them. It went on like this for some time. Some trees came alive and attacked not only the Wardens, but the bandits as well.

When they reached a footbridge, the Wardens ran into a lone man, probably another scavenger, but he was not in the mood to fight. He only wanted to flee the woods as fast as possible. Tristan attempted to question him, but all he said was that an elf was furiously attacking any humans that came through the woods.

"So an elf is the cause of these burnt out caravans, not darkspawn." Melisende mused.

A bit further down the path, they ran into this elf woman who stood perched on a cliff overlooking the trio. She was angry and she was a mage. She told them to get out and then quickly disappeared. They ignored her and continued into the woods.

They found a man, Olaf, who was dying of infection. He told them that the darkspawn had killed the elves, not the humans. Eerily, he told them that the darkspawn were watching them, waiting for them. Then he died, at Tristan's hands as he wanted.

"The elf must be made to see the truth. We must stop her." Tristan said. They turned around to find themselves facing a group of darkspawn. They quickly dispatched the monsters then set off to find the elf. They ran into her again near the abandoned Dalish camp.

"Please, I just want to talk…" Tristan pleaded.

"Talk! The humans have killed my clan and taken my sister. You will pay _shemlin_!" The elf awakened some trees to attack the Wardens. They slew those and caught up to the elf again, who was furious that they had found her again. Tristan was also furious for playing this game of cat and mouse.

"Listen to me! The darkspawn are responsible for what happened to your people! You must stop attacking humans!" Tristan tried to reason, the frustration audible in the firmness of his voice.

"Oh sure, blame it on the darkspawn. Why should I trust you? You are a human," the elf angrily retorted.

"I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens. I know darkspawn. They have gotten smarter. They framed the humans. Please stop this, or you will force my hand in the matter." Although it was a threat, the elf did not seem too impressed.

"And what of my sister? If I am to believe what you say, where is my sister?"

"If the darkspawn have her… then it may already be too late to save her. They use women… turn them into breeding machines," Tristan explained. The elf looked horrified at the possibility.

"Never! I will never let my sister become one of them. If I give you my word that the troubles here will stop, will you help me find my sister? You said you knew darkspawn. Then help me help yourself," the elf demanded. Tristan sighed.

"Fine. Are there any underground passages nearby?" he asked.

"There is an old mine close to here."

"We will search there." Tristan turned around, but then forgetting his manners turned back to the elf and asked her name.

"I am Velanna," she replied.

"I am Tristan. Melisende, Nathaniel," he nodded towards each as he said their names.

They headed towards the mine and entered it cautiously. Each of the Wardens could feel the presence of darkspawn. They crept down the old stairs, clutching their weapons. When they reached the bottom, they felt suddenly very tired. They fell into a deep sleep, a spell cast onto them by an odd looking darkspawn.

…

What seemed like hours later, Melisende awakened with a throbbing head. She clutched at her head while she sat up. She looked around her, realizing she was in a cell. She was relieved to see that she was not alone – her companions were there. But she was displeased to find herself in plain clothes, a dress no less, and with her weapons gone.

"Why am I always the last to awaken from such things?" she asked no one in particular.

"Maybe you have the hardest head?" Nathaniel offered. She glared at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked angrily. Nathaniel snickered. Melisende suddenly had a flash of memory – a weird looking darkspawn gazing down at her and saying something. Alarmed, she stood up and gazed down at her body. She absentmindedly touched her breasts.

"Did the darkspawn experiment on us?" she asked. Tristan, who was standing already and looking outside the cell turned around to look at Melisende.

"Don't worry Mel, your breasts are as bountiful as ever," he remarked sarcastically. Embarrassed, Melisende lowered her hands. She heard Nathaniel snickering in the corner and she blushed.

"Why are you so jolly all of a sudden?" she blurted at Nathaniel.

"I've never seen you in a dress before. I think the peasant look suits you," he replied with a smirk on his face.

"Ugh, I'd expect that from Anders, not you. What is it, pick on Melisende day?" she glared at the two men. Velanna crossed her arms and snorted.

"You humans are impossible. We are captured and all you can do is jest?" she angrily remarked.

"Well, it's not the first time I've been imprisoned…" Melisende retorted.

"Nor I." said Nathaniel.

"We'll find a way out of here." Tristan stated confidently to them all.

"Seranni!" Velanna suddenly shouted. They turned their attention to a blonde elven woman in armor.

"You must get out of here." Seranni said as she neared the bars of the cell.

"You have to come with me!" Velanna pleaded with her sister. Seranni seemed to ignore Velanna's pleas.

"Here is the key." She handed it through the gate to Tristan.

"What is going on here?" he asked her.

"I don't know."

"You don't know or you won't say?" Tristan probed. Melisende noticed that Seranni had the eyes of one infected by darkspawn.

"Seranni, where are you going?" Velanna asked as Seranni turned to leave.

"I have to go, before they come. Just go Velanna. It's not me they're after." Seranni replied as she left.

"Let's go." Tristan urged as he unlocked their cell door. The four of them left the cell only to be confronted by a handful of darkspawn.

"Well, Nathaniel, looks like me and you will have to use our fists." Melisende remarked as a hurlock swung a sword towards her head and she swiftly ducked. She then uppercut the hurlock as hard as she could. Her fist burst into pain as it connected. She shook it to try to stop the pain. Nathaniel watched her with mild amusement in his eyes.

"Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea," he said.

"You're telling me," Melisende replied, "maybe we should just hang back and let the mages deal with these bastards first." 

"Good idea," Nathaniel agreed as both Tristan and Velanna used magic to kill the darkspawn. They went to collect the weapons off the dead darkspawn.

"I really hope we find my swords," Melisende complained as she held up a steel darkspawn sword. "This just won't do."

"It'll have to do, for now at least. Let's get out of here." Tristan said.

"Right."


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter X

Two days later the trio of Wardens and Velanna found themselves nearing the gates of Vigil's Keep. They had fought their way out of the silverite mine, encountering the odd looking, and talking darkspawn called The Architect. They didn't really find out what was going on, except that this particular darkspawn was interested in Grey Wardens. Melisende was certain the Architect had taken blood from all of them. For their re-creation as witnessed by the ghouls wearing their equipment, or something else? They had discussed and argued about it all the way back.

Velanna had been quiet and moody, understandably, Melisende thought. She had not succeeded in saving her sister and now was set on becoming a Grey Warden to search for Seranni more effectively. Melisende didn't particularly agree with her reasons for wanting to join, but Tristan wasn't going to refuse any help at this point.

Other than Velanna's moodiness, Melisende had enjoyed the journey back. It felt exhilarating to have once again faced death only to come out on top, alive. She jested with Tristan like old times. She succeeded at getting a few laughs out of Nathaniel and even got him to tell them stories about his life in Amaranthine, although she did avoid bringing up his father directly. She in turn, regaled them all with tales from Highever and from the Blight. She felt a lot closer to all of them and as they entered the gates, was a little sad to be back so soon. She wanted the journey to continue forever.

"Ugh. I think I just stepped in mud," Nathaniel complained as Tristan and Velanna went on ahead through the gates. Melisende turned to regard him.

"So?" she asked.

"It's a trial to clean." Nathaniel replied, trying to rub the mud from his boots using the grass at the side of the path.

"Really, Nathaniel? Cleaning mud off your boots?" Melisende folded her arms, watching him with amusement. He paused and looked up at her seriously.

"Mud, slime, gore. Cleaning in general tests my patience like no other task."

Melisende laughed. "So calm, stoic Nathaniel gets riled up by having to clean his boots? Forget taking on a horde of darkspawn or undead. Throw a fistful of mud at Nathaniel to get his blood boiling. Huh, you learn something new every day." Melisende said sarcastically.

"Make fun all you want. It still doesn't change the fact that it is a pain to clean muddy boots," he defended himself. Melisende snickered. "Oh go soak your head!"

"Maybe you should go soak your boots." Melisende countered.

"Ugh. You're impossible." Nathaniel said as he passed through the gates. Melisende continued to snicker as she followed him. They caught up to Tristan and Velanna and then entered the courtyard of Vigil's Keep.

"What's this?" she mused at a large gathering of peasants right outside the Keep. Captain Garevel came running over to Tristan.

"Ah, there you are! The peasants…" Melisende couldn't hear what he was telling Tristan. Tristan moved to the front of the crowd.

"This doesn't look good." Nathaniel muttered. The peasants were shouting loudly.

"My son is starving, open the granaries! Bloody feed your people!" one man shouted above them all.

"Now more than ever, we must stand together." Tristan attempted to calm them down, but they wouldn't listen.

"We must eat!" barked another peasant.

A peasant woman shushed them. "Let the Commander speak!" she yelled.

"I will provide for my people. Trust me." Tristan tried to convince the crowd. The loud peasant man would have none of it.

"Don't believe the empty words of the Commander!" he shrieked. Then the peasants attacked the guards and all hell broke loose. Melisende got caught in the crowd. She had to hack through a couple of peasants to get to Tristan. She felt no joy killing them, only pity. Whatever their grievances, she felt sure they were justified, but revolts never solved anything. _Stupid peasants_, she thought.

As quickly as it had started, it was ended. A mass of peasants were dead. Melisende suddenly remembered Samuel Longshot. She hoped he hadn't got caught up in the fighting. She felt queasy with fear as she quickly scanned the crowd for the body of a child. Nathaniel noticed her action and seemed to know what she was about.

"Don't worry, there are no children around," he reassured her. She nodded at him and then turned to follow Tristan who was making his way to the Keep's interior.

Inside were a group of nobles standing behind Bann Esmerelle. Tristan nodded a greeting to Anders, Oghren, and Sigrun, who were standing next to Varel, having a conversation with Esmerelle, or at least it looked that way to Melisende. Melisende lingered by a post behind Tristan and the others. Something was not right. She could feel it. Her heart beat nervously and she rested her hands close to her sword hilts. She suspiciously scanned the crowds. Some of the nobles she couldn't recognize. A man lingered behind her. Their eyes met. He smiled in greeting. Melisende felt somehow mocked. She nodded at him, and then clutched at her concealed dagger at her belt.

"Bann Esmerelle," Tristan's voice rang out in greeting. "What brings you here on this day?"

Bann Esmerelle regarded Tristan with contempt. She was evidently disgusted by his commonness, how he had risen so high in Ferelden. "I am here about the good arl, the good arl you and your tawdry order killed," she stated derisively.

"You're still hung up on that? I'll have you know Arl Howe's own son is a member of this _tawdry_ order." Tristan replied, equally condescendingly. Bann Esmerelle snorted at the mention of Nathaniel and flicked her fingers in his direction, showing her disdain for Nathaniel. Nathaniel tensed up, visibly affronted by the slight.

"_Rendon_ was good to us, good to me," she said.

Someone in the crowd fired an arrow towards Tristan's head. Melisende gasped as it flew toward him, only to be stopped by Varel's arm block. She lurched forward, intending to run to his aid as chaos erupted in the hall, but was held back by a strong arm. It was the suspicious looking man who had stood by her all this time. He pulled her back towards him and before she could react, he plunged a dagger into her side, piercing her leather armor. She felt the warmth of her blood well up and then spill as the dagger came out of her side. She gasped in pain. The sound of swords clanging and people shouting was reduced to a ringing in her ears. She glanced at her aggressor; he was grinning maniacally at her.

Melisende reached for her sword at her back with her free hand, but was jerked to the side, before the assassin plunged the dagger through the top of her shoulder. Melisende cried out in pain. Nothing made sense to her anymore. All she knew was that she hurt. She was probably going to die. _Strange_, she thought, _I have wanted this moment to come for so long, but now I am not ready. It cannot be. Maker, give me the strength to fight back._

Melisende closed her eyes. She wanted to fight back, but couldn't find the strength. She had never been this badly wounded. She felt the blood pouring out of her. She felt the sharpness, coldness of steel press into her neck.

"Good night, sweets," she faintly heard the assassin whisper in her ear. Then… nothing. She thought she felt the dagger slice through her neck, but instead the assassin's grip on her slackened. She opened her eyes and saw Nathaniel with his bow pointed in her direction. Then she fell into a heap on the floor, everything fading to white, and then darkness washed over her.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter XI

Melisende remembered nothing of the next few days. Nothing but what seemed like a short, deep, and dreamless sleep. When she awakened, she was surprised to find out that she was in fact, alive.

Her eyes flickered open and closed a few times. The light of the torches made her wince. She was not used to the light. She was on a bed, in a small chamber with one window. It was night, and it was generally quiet. The only sounds being the patter of rain drops on the Keep and the purring of a cat. Ser Pounce-a-lot was lying stretched out near her legs. She was covered in blankets.

Melisende tried to push herself up into a sitting position using her arms, but the effort sent a spasm of pain into her left shoulder. She cried out. Something rustled on a chair beside her bed and Pounce-a-lot lazily jumped off the bed.

"Lady, you are awake!" said a boy on the chair. Melisende turned her attention to him. _Samuel_, she thought. She attempted to say his name, but her throat was so dry, nothing but a hoarse "Sa" came out.

"I was told to get Anders as soon as you awoke. I'll be right back." Samuel said, jumping out of the chair and scurrying out into the dark hall.

Melisende used her right arm to prop herself up into a sitting position. There was a throbbing ache on her right side. She shoved the blankets off. She was wearing only a long tunic. She rolled it up to look at her wound. Lifting the bandages, it looked only superficial, but when she touched it, it hurt a lot. She turned her attention to the left shoulder, which looked the same, but caused her more pain when she moved her arm. She wanted to stand up, but Samuel came running into the room with a sleepy Anders right behind.

"Here, drink this." Anders shoved a cup of water into her hand and stopped her from standing up. "You are not quite ready to be wandering around just yet."

She drank the water furiously. The liquid felt as sweet as honey as it travelled down her dry throat. She thanked Anders when she was done.

"How long have I been out?" she asked.

"About three days now. It could have been worse, but I was able to use magic to heal the worst of it. Wow, did you ever lose a lot of blood." Anders replied.

"Thank you, Anders."

"Ah, it was nothing. You really should be thanking Nathaniel. If he hadn't had such an accurate shot, you'd probably be dead." Anders remarked.

"Nathaniel, really? I do remember that, I think… so everyone else made it out of the hall?"

"Yes, although Varel took an arrow in his forearm. Sammy, go fill the cup with more water." Anders took the empty cup from Melisende and gave it to Samuel who dashed out of the room.

"I feel like such an idiot." Melisende said. "Why did I stand so far behind everyone? I knew that man was evil…" 

"Hey, don't worry about it. It happens to the best of us." Anders reassured her. "Besides, if that makes you an idiot, then I must be the king of idiots for getting caught by Templars all those times I escaped the Circle. Seven times!" 

Melisende smiled.

"There, now that's what I like to see." Anders smiled back.

"Just don't make me laugh. I fear my side will literally split if I do." Melisende warned.

"Since when do my jokes ever make you laugh so hard? If at all?"

"Well, don't start now." Melisende chuckled. Samuel returned with the cup of water. He handed it to Melisende who took a quick sip. "So where is everyone?"

"It is the middle of the night." Anders replied. "I'd guess they're all asleep." 

"Nate was here all day, every day, until the Commander told him to get some rest. I was here with him." Samuel said proudly.

"Is this true?" Melisende asked. She looked to Anders for confirmation.

"Why would I lie?" Samuel piped in. Anders nodded. He leaned close to Melisende, out of Samuel's hearing.

"I think _Nate_ has a thing for you," he whispered. Melisende snorted, and then winced in pain.

"Don't be ridiculous, I am a Cousland. Not to mention I killed his father…" she whispered back.

"Stranger things have happened." Anders said aloud, smiling. "Anyway, you should get some rest."

"But I've been asleep for three days already." Melisende complained.

"The more you rest, the quicker your wound will heal."

"Fine." Melisende sighed.

"Good, I'll be back in the morning."

"Can I stay?" Samuel asked. Anders looked to Melisende, who nodded her agreement.

"Don't bother her too much, you little rascal." Anders ruffled Samuel's curly hair then left.

"Won't your mother wonder where you are?" Melisende asked Samuel.

"No," Samuel flatly stated, reminding Melisende of Sten.

"Alright then," Melisende motioned for Samuel to take a seat near her, and then continued, "So what did you and Nathaniel do while I slept? Surely, you did not just stare at me? That would be very boring." 

"Well, he told me stories and promised to show me how to use a bow… but he did shoo me away a couple of times."

"Really, now why would he do that?"

"You started thrashing about and saying things. I guess he didn't want me to hear…"

_Oh Maker, _Melisende thought, _what did I say in my delirium?_

"I see. Sometimes I speak things that are not suitable for a child's ears." 

"I'll say…" Samuel giggled. Melisende ruffled his hair.

"Did you listen in anyway?"

"Once." Samuel admitted.

"What did I say?" Melisende's ears began to burn. She was afraid of what she had said.

"You cursed a lot mostly. Then the Commander caught me and dragged me to the kitchens. He gave me some cookies." Melisende laughed. Maybe she hadn't said anything too revealing. She hoped all she did was curse.

"Do you have any stories?" Samuel asked her, clearly impatient to be done with the questioning.

"I have plenty. Would you like to hear one?"

"Yes!"

"My nephew used to love this one about werewolves…" Melisende began. Sometime later they both fell asleep. Ser Pounce-a-lot crept up onto the bed and curled up between them, purring contently.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter XII

The next morning, Melisende was woken up by creaky floorboards and quiet murmurings. She opened her eyes to find Tristan and Nathaniel standing at the edge of her bed.

"My friend, it is good to see you awake." Tristan said as he walked over to her side and grasped her arm in greeting. "You had us worried for a while."

Tristan gave her a hug. "I'm so sorry, Mel. I should have taken the conspiracy more seriously. I thought they only meant me harm."

"Tristan, please," Melisende pleaded, "You don't have to apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"Oh but I did. I failed you most of all. I should, as Commander, take care of every threat. I should have heeded Nathaniel when he said not to take the threats lightly. Instead, I let it fester and grow. You nearly paid with your life. I am sorry a thousand times over. I will never forgive myself for putting everyone in danger." Tristan regarded her miserably.

"I forgive you. You couldn't have known the extent… really. I am alive. That is all that matters." Melisende tried to comfort Tristan. She did not blame him at all for what happened. Tristan stood up and rubbed his neck in thought.

"I see the boy is still here," he pointed at Samuel, asleep with Ser Pounce-a-lot on the other side. Melisende nodded. "He is quite taken with you. Your little admirer hardly left your side."

"I don't know how I inspired such loyalty in such short time, but he is a good boy nonetheless." Melisende replied.

"In any case, I wanted to see you before I leave. I am taking a few of the others to find Kristoff. Maker knows I should have done it straight away. I just hope there is something left to find."

"Thank you, Tristan. I would have been very cross if you had left without coming to see me first." 

"No doubt. I am sorry this has to be such a short visit, but I really must get everything sorted out before I leave. Now please, take it easy while I'm gone. I know you're probably itching to get back at it, but you need to heal." 

"Oh, Anders already chided me. I promise, I will take it easy." Melisende laughed.

"Good. Although I am hardly reassured. What is easy to you may not be what I have in mind, but you will be in good hands." Tristan quickly glanced towards Nathaniel, who was standing politely away. "Goodbye for now."

Tristan kissed the top of Melisende's hand, sat up, and left the room. Melisende looked toward Nathaniel. He was staring at her intently. She smiled at him and beckoned him closer. He came to her side.

"I am relieved to see you awake," he whispered. "I thought I was too late…"

"Thank you." Melisende whispered in return. She reached for his hand and clutched it. "For saving my life."

They gazed at each other, spellbound it seemed. The feeling of his hand in hers made her heart flutter and sent shivers through her arm. Nathaniel broke the spell by turning his attention to their intertwined hands. He brought his other hand over and on top of them. Melisende wanted to melt into the bed at this intimate touch. Instead, she broke the silence.

"Are you going with the Commander?" she asked him. He removed his hands from hers.

"No."

"Good." Melisende said.

"In any case, I shouldn't dally here. I have to help with the preparations." Nathaniel arose from her side and quietly left the room. Melisende smiled to herself, though she was disappointed that he had left so soon.

…

That afternoon, Melisende got tired of sitting in her bed. She needed to move around. With Samuel's help, she stood up and though each step sent a spasm of pain in her side, she managed to walk to the kitchens where she sat down for lunch with the other Grey Wardens. Only Tristan was not there. They all chatted and jested companionably. Oghren, Sigrun, and Velanna were to leave with the Commander right after that meal.

Oghren handed Melisende some ale, which she accepted without hesitation. She was in pain and it needed to be dulled. However, when she was about to refill her cup, she glimpsed at Nathaniel. His face was expressionless, but she had a sudden memory of his disgust not long ago when she vomited in the corner. She filled the cup only halfway and vowed not to get drunk again, lest she embarrass herself once more. She was not Oghren, after all, she couldn't handle too much.

"I found something under my bed at the keep. Something tells me it's yours." Sigrun took out a ratty old doll and tossed it at Nathaniel.

"Miss Maggie!" he exclaimed as he caught it. "I remember her. She's not mine; she belonged to my sister, Delilah. Miss Maggie was her favorite doll."

"A likely story." Anders teased.

"Miss Maggie appears to be missing her arms." Sigrun remarked.

Nathaniel grinned. "Delilah and I had a fight. Then I ripped Maggie's arms and hid them in places where Delilah would find them later."

Melisende laughed out loud at the image of a young Nathaniel ripping apart his sister's doll. Fergus had never done anything like that to her – she never would have let him get away with something like that without a sound kick in the shins, and he knew it. So he never tried.

"What a sweetheart you were." Sigrun observed. This caused Melisende to laugh even harder.

"Ow," Melisende exclaimed through her laughs, clutching her side.

"That's what you get for laughing at me." Nathaniel remarked with a smirk. Melisende laughed again but stopped as Tristan entered the room, clearing his throat for attention.

"Mel, take it easy there. I can see you've already ignored my advice," he said.

"I'm sorry. It was just too boring up there. And I was ravenous."

Tristan shook his head in mock annoyance. "Well then, we must be on our way now. I leave the Keep in Varel's capable hands, with you two to defend it if needs be," he nodded at Anders and Nathaniel. Melisende resented being left out. She was starting to feel frustrated at being injured when only hours ago she was delighted at being alive. _What good is life if I'm an invalid?_

Her frustration fumed inside her, gathering slowly, like lava waiting to explode from a volcano. Tristan left with Oghren, Sigrun, and Velanna. Melisende sat up abruptly, ignoring her pain, and stalked out of the room with Samuel following close behind her.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter XIII

The next few days Melisende spent wandering around the Keep, trying to get her strength back. Every time she tried to lift her injured arm the pain would cause her to lower it right back. But each time she tried, it would rise a little higher than the last. So she pushed herself hard, though Anders warned her not to.

She found her swords, polished and sharpened in the armory, and attempted to practice with them. Her injuries made that too painful at first. She fought through the pain, but ended up using only one sword with her good arm to hack at a post, imagining it to be the assassin who did this to her.

Samuel, or Sammy as he liked to be called, continued to follow her around. She liked the boy, but his constant presence, coupled with her growing frustration at her present uselessness caused her to become annoyed with him. Her patience was wearing thin. She couldn't teach him anything and so more often than not she dumped him onto Nathaniel before she snapped.

Melisende would watch Nathaniel patiently show Sammy how to use a bow. These little lessons would return her good mood and she often joined in. Using a bow was not as painful as lifting a sword. She learned a lot about Nathaniel at these moments and she found herself falling for him. This only frustrated her even further, as she didn't know what to do about her feelings and despite what Anders had told her, she didn't believe that Nathaniel "had a thing" for her. Sure, he had saved her life and yes, they were spending more and more time together and not arguing like in the beginning, but that didn't mean he felt something for her. _Maker, it was so easy to tell with Alistair_, she thought. Nathaniel was so damn stoic she couldn't tell what he thought.

…

It had been over two weeks since Melisende had awakened and since Tristan and the others had left. The three Wardens left behind were a little worried, for they didn't think finding Kristoff would take this long, but they figured that they had probably just continued following the missing Warden's trail.

Melisende was slowly healing, but she still was not her normal self. She was getting terribly impatient and restless.

One morning, she attempted to practice with two swords, but ended up dropping one nearly onto her feet. She grunted loudly in frustration. Sammy went over to pick up the sword for her, but she stopped him.

"No." she said. She could feel the lava of emotions bubbling up inside of her. It was ready to burst and she exploded into a fit of rage. Poor little Sammy was the only one around to fall victim to the flow.

"Get away!" she yelled at Sammy. He cowered in fear, confused at Melisende's sudden change in mood. "Isn't it about time you go home?"

Sammy shrugged.

"Well go! Get out! I don't need a lapdog!" she yelled. Sammy stood rooted to the ground until Melisende kicked at the dirt in front of him, sending mud into his face. Sammy stumbled backwards then got up and ran off. Melisende picked up her swords and threw them in disgust at the wall. They hit it with a clang and fell to the ground. Melisende let out a scream of anger and then ran inside the Keep where she irately stalked through the halls, the servants scurrying out of her path, until she reached her room. She flung herself onto her bed and proceeded to cry.

She lay in bed all day and night, desperate for a drink to drive herself into oblivion, but desperate also to will herself not to resort to the bottle. It was hard, and though her hands seemed to have a will of their own, shaking, reaching out as if to grasp a jug of ale, she surrendered in the end – to a restless sleep.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter XIV

"Mel!"

Melisende groaned and rolled onto her stomach, pulling the blankets over her head.

"Mel, wake up!"

_By the Maker, go away!_ She thought, or did she say out loud? She was groggy and did not want to wake up. She pulled on the blankets even harder, clutching to them as if to let go would be the end of her.

"Melisende!"

She wished whoever was calling her name would shut up already. She didn't recognize the voice as the blankets muffled all sounds. All she knew was that they were outside her room. Sooner or later they would start knocking on her door. She was right, they started knocking… then banging and still she ignored them. All she wanted was to get back to sleep.

The door burst open, loudly, with a thud as it hit the wall. The person's footsteps filtered through the blankets to reach Melisende's ears. She braced herself for a scolding. It was late afternoon; she'd been in bed for two days now.

"Melisende, get up!"

The covers went flying off the bed and Melisende was exposed, curled up and disheveled in only a tunic. She sighed, turned onto her back and opened her eyes.

"Can I get you a ladder, so you can get off my back?" she snapped. Nathaniel was standing by her bed, looking worried. He ignored her comment. Suddenly conscious of her messy hair, which had come undone and was hanging loose in waves reaching to just above her waist, she sat up. She noticed her bare legs and stood on her knees to hide them.

"What?" she retorted at Nathaniel.

He regarded her curiously, momentarily speechless. The worried look left his face for a fleeting moment and was replaced by a look of wonder as he took in the sight of her. Then he suddenly remembered his purpose.

"We've just received word that a caravan bound for Denerim, that left here yesterday, was attacked by a small group of darkspawn," he explained.

"And your point is?" Melisende impatiently asked. Nathaniel sighed in annoyance.

"If there are survivors, we must help them…" 

"So why didn't you go to Anders with this? I'm a little useless at the moment."

"Anders is in Amaranthine. Besides, I thought you might like to know that Sammy was in that caravan with his mother." 

"What?" Melisende was surprised.

"He came to say goodbye yesterday." Nathaniel looked on Melisende with pity.

"Maker's breath. I treated him horribly the other day. I told him to get away from me…" Melisende got out of bed and began searching frantically for her leggings. She found them and began putting them on. "We must go to this caravan… we have to find Sammy…" 

She paced around the room looking for her gloves, boots, and armor. Guilt welled up inside of her. The room became stuffy and she struggled to breathe. _What have I done? I should never have told him to go away._

"Mel," Nathaniel took hold of her arm to stop the frenzied pacing and searching. "Mel, stop. You have to calm yourself."

He sat her down on the bed.

"We have to go. We have to find Sammy. I never should have…"

"His mother would have taken him away no matter what you did. You have to stop this. You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself, blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong, and just _live_." Nathaniel said sternly.

Melisende looked at Nathaniel in shock. She was offended at his words, yet she knew they were true. She had been acting selfish for too long now. "You're right. You're absolutely right," she admitted, "I am going to compose myself and then we are going to go to the caravan and we are going to find the survivors, especially Sammy, and we are going to bring them back, safe and sound." 

Nathaniel smiled at her enthusiasm; however, she could tell he was not as eager to be off.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked her.

Insulted, Melisende nodded, and then replied, "Of course. I doubt we'll run into any darkspawn. They'll have left already."

"But if we do?"

"Why, you'll be there to defend me of course." She playfully nudged Nathaniel in the arm.

"Oh sure, leave it to me to take on a group of darkspawn." 

"Don't worry, I'll bring my bow. That, I can at least use. Now, shall we get a move on?"

"Yes, let's not dally any longer." Nathaniel agreed with a grin.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter XV

It was a blustery and chilly autumn day. As Melisende and Nathaniel headed toward the site of the unlucky caravan, Melisende drew her cloak tighter around herself. The cold air seeped through anyway and she was forced to blow on her fingers to keep them warm. She needed to be ready to use her bow at any second.

She glanced at Nathaniel who was carefully scanning the woods on both sides and the road in front of them. She admired the set of his shoulders under his cloak and the way his hair fluttered in the wind. Then she remembered why they were there and she shook herself back to reality.

"There it is," he said, nodding up ahead at overturned wagons. Melisende broke into a sprint and headed toward the scene.

"Wait!" Nathaniel bellowed.

As Melisende neared the scene she viewed the carnage wreaked upon the small caravan. A few dead bodies were scattered around the site, stabbed, hacked, and even burnt.

"Throwing all caution to the wind is not a good idea." Nathaniel said very quietly as he caught up to Melisende. He drew in a breath as he took in the scene before them.

"I don't feel any of the monsters nearby." Melisende remarked as she walked through the carnage, glancing at every body while covering her nose at the smell.

"You may not feel their presence, but I can smell them on the wind." Nathaniel said as he wandered to the opposite side to examine an overturned wagon.

"Did you notice?" Melisende asked, walking over to Nathaniel.

"That there are no women among the dead? Yes, I noticed that," he replied with a look of revulsion on his face.

"They must have taken them. Oh, the awful things they will do to them." An image of broodmothers entered into Melisende's head, making her shiver in disgust. "There are no children around, either. There's a chance that Sammy and his mother are still alive. We have to find them."

"But are they together?" Nathaniel wondered, rhetorically, because they both knew that darkspawn wouldn't bother with a boy child.

"Nevertheless, we must try."

Nathaniel nodded his agreement and they began to search the periphery for any clues.

"There will be at least one emissary among these darkspawn." Melisende noticed as she stepped over a burnt body. "We must be wary of magic…"

Nathaniel stopped at the edge of the woods and knelt down to examine the ground. He pushed aside some leaves and picked up a piece of ripped red fabric. He stood up and went further into the woods, disappearing from sight. Melisende, who wasn't watching when this happened, suddenly found herself alone.

"Nathaniel?" she cautiously called out. She went over to where she had last seen him kneeling. She peered into the woods and saw him picking up another piece of ripped red fabric.

"I think someone is leaving a trail for us," he said as Melisende tread to him and he handed her one of the pieces of the torn fabric.

"It's Sammy. I know it is," she remarked, hope welling up inside of her. She looked on ahead and like a rose among thorns, saw another piece of torn red fabric beckoning to them among the dried up brown leaves and pine needles covering the ground. She ran over to it and picked it up, then quickly spotted another in the distance. She was about to run off again when Nathaniel grabbed hold of her hand.

"Carefully," he cautioned. "We are only two, and you are still injured." 

"Right, right, I'll be careful," she promised impatiently. His hand felt warm and his concern for her sent a blush to her cheeks. He let her go and they continued to follow the path of the torn red fabric.

A little while later, as the sky was beginning to darken, they reached a dead end above a small cliff. Melisende gazed below, her heart beating nervously, half expecting to see a child's body sprawled out on the ground. There was a clearing of sorts, then a jumble of rocks. Melisende saw a flash of curly blonde hair appear then disappear behind them. As her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth opened to call out, she was twisted around and shoved onto her back. Nathaniel was on top of her, his hand covering her mouth shut.

"Andraste's sake woman," he whispered furiously, "get down!"

Melisende winced in pain as her wounds throbbed from hitting the ground so hard. Not to mention her bow and quiver were making a dent in her back. Nathaniel lay straight on top of her, looking toward the cliff. She shoved his hand away from her mouth. She was breathless, from pain, from the feel of Nathaniel's strong, hard body on top of hers.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded in an annoyed whisper. "I saw Sammy…"

"We can't take on a horde of darkspawn on our own," he angrily replied. His face was so close to hers she could feel his warm breath. It smelled like mint leaves.

"I saw no darkspawn," she retorted.

"Just below us, below this cliff. They are camped. Why do you think Sammy is hiding in the rocks? He must be trying to save his mother…" Nathaniel scooted off of her and then began to crawl backwards into the cover of the trees. He beckoned for Melisende to do the same. Instead, Melisende crawled towards the cliff to see what was happening below. There were indeed darkspawn below, but she didn't see any captives. She could hear Nathaniel cursing under his breath in the trees. She crawled back towards him.

"That's hardly a horde, Nathaniel. We can take them," she whispered to him.

Nathaniel sighed. "I sometimes forget how young you are." 

"What does that have to do with anything? I am hardly a child. Only a few years separate us."

"Yet, you are still a reckless pup."

"Don't call me that, ever," she angrily replied. Her father used to call her "pup".

"Alright, alright. No need to get so touchy. Anyway, it's probably the tail end of the group. What if we miss one and they go to the others for aid? Hmm?"

"They're going to get reinforcements for two of us? We have to do something, or they're going to find Sammy."

"Fine," Nathaniel agreed. "But without your swords you can hardly run into them, can you?"

"I wasn't going to."

"It certainly looked that way to me."

"I'm sorry; I didn't notice them at first. What more do you want from me?"

"You should heed my advice more often."

Melisende rolled her eyes. Nathaniel smiled.

"Very well," she said. "What do you _advise_ we do now?"

"We need to set up an ambush. We need to use our stealth, the growing darkness. We should flicker in and out of the trees and rain down hell on them."

"I see. Make them think there are more than just the two of us." 

"Exactly."

"I like the way you think, Nathaniel Howe." She playfully tapped his head with her index finger.

"I will go to the other side and then we will attack. I will draw them out to the middle where you can more easily shoot at them from the trees instead of from the open cliff. Remember, run from tree to tree for best effect." Nathaniel explained. They stood up. Melisende examined her bow and quiver.

"I hope you didn't crack my bow. That hurt you know," she whispered.

Nathaniel grinned. "Sorry."

She found nothing wrong with her bow and her arrows were fine. "Andraste's first miracle of this night. May she grant us one more." Nathaniel remarked before setting off to the other cliff. While she waited for him to get there, she nocked an arrow to her bow in preparation. She kept her eyes on the rocks, willing Sammy to stay hidden.

Moments later, Melisende viewed Nathaniel at the edge of the cliff on the other side. He bellowed loudly, causing the darkspawn to walk into Melisende's range as they searched for the source. She fired an arrow at one of them, knocking it down dead, and then ran to another tree, firing again. Nathaniel fired, and then took cover in the trees. The darkspawn were momentarily confused, unsure of where to counter attack. Finally, they turned towards Melisende and began climbing the short cliff. She cursed under her breath as they were momentarily hidden from her view. Nathaniel continued firing, coming out of hiding to shoot the climbers. A few thuds were heard as his arrows met their marks.

Melisende came out of hiding to dispatch the rest of the climbers. When the last one fell to his death, she glanced over in Nathaniel's direction. He was already climbing down into the clearing, heading for the jumble of rocks. Melisende made her way in that direction, too, but a sense of foreboding sent a prickle down her spine. There was still a darkspawn around, she could feel it. Before she could warn Nathaniel, a hurlock emissary came laughing into the clearing with a genlock by his side. He cast a spell on Nathaniel, paralyzing him into stillness.

Melisende ran headlong into the emissary, grabbing her dagger from her belt. Panicked, she jumped onto the emissary, stabbing him repeatedly in the head until he fell, dead. She looked to Nathaniel who was still paralyzed for the moment. The genlock was running towards him, swinging his axe. Melisende furiously nocked an arrow and took aim at the genlock, then quickly released. The spell wore off on Nathaniel just as the genlock took a swing towards him. Nathaniel managed to jump back as the axe cut into his abdomen. Melisende's arrow hit the genlock in the head at that moment, felling him at Nathaniel's feet.

"Nathaniel!" Melisende cried out, running towards him. She reached him as he fell backwards, steadying him. He clutched at his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers.

"It's just a cut," he reassured her. She removed his hands to take a look. The axe had cut through his armor. It wasn't deep, but the bleeding would need to be stopped and it would need to be stitched up soon. Melisende breathed a sigh of relief.

"And who is throwing all caution to the wind now?" she chided him. "The wound needs to be taken care of." She ripped off part of her cloak and used that to staunch the blood. She placed Nathaniel's hands over it and applied pressure. "Hold it there. We need something to fasten it there until we return."

"I'll be fine," he insisted. She looked into his eyes and believed him. "Find Sammy before it gets too dark. We should be away from here as soon as possible…"

Melisende nodded, and then went off to search for Sammy in the rocks. She found him squeezed into a tiny crevice, clutching a torn red blanket. He looked up at her with wide fearful eyes. She pulled him out and hugged him to her.

"Sammy, are you alright?" she asked. He just looked at her and said nothing. He was shivering fiercely, his teeth chattering with the cold. "We have to get you home."

She carried him over to Nathaniel. She was about to remove her cloak to wrap Sammy in but Nathaniel stopped her. "No, take mine," he insisted, handing over his cloak to Melisende. She wrapped Sammy up tightly and rubbed him, willing him to get warm. Instead, he fell asleep.

"What of his mother? What'll we do?" Melisende inquired, though she had a notion of what Nathaniel would say.

"I think we are too late. We are too few," he said, regret audible in his voice. Melisende nodded in agreement. A tear rolled down her cheek. It was so hard. She didn't want to give up, but she had to admit that she was not capable of continuing the search. She was in pain, Nathaniel was hurt, and Sammy needed to be brought back to the keep.

"Then may the Maker have mercy on her and any others with her."


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter XVI

They reached the Keep a ragged bunch. The guards at the gates almost didn't recognize them. The darkness of the night and the tattered, dirty state of their clothing were to blame.

"Pardon our mistake dear Wardens," one of the guards said, opening the gate after the confusion was settled.

"Is that the only survivor of the caravan attack?" the other guard asked Nathaniel, who was holding a sleeping Sammy.

"Besides the one who brought us the news, yes, I'm afraid so." Nathaniel replied.

"Well, at least all the Wardens are accounted for now," the guard said.

"The Commander has returned then?" Melisende asked.

"Yes, just this afternoon."

They thanked the guards for letting them through and for giving them the news then headed towards the Keep's interior. It was quiet and dark. No doubt, everyone was already asleep. They brought Sammy to Melisende's room and placed him in her bed. She covered him in blankets.

"I hope he'll be alright," she remarked sadly.

"Children are resilient. He'll bounce back in no time." Nathaniel solemnly replied. Melisende looked over at Nathaniel. She remembered his cut.

"We should see to your wound now," she pointed out. He glanced down at himself as if he had forgotten he was injured.

"This?" he touched the cut. His face winced in pain. "It's just a graze. Nothing to worry about."

"Maker's ass, you're a liar. Let's go." She grabbed Nathaniel by the arm and dragged him out of the room. They walked in silence to the supply room. They were both very tired, their muscles sore and their bones aching from the long walk and the fight. Mentally, Melisende felt drained and disappointed. She felt like she had let Sammy down. She had wanted to save everyone, but failed, again. The word "useless" sputtered through her mind.

In the supply room, Melisende searched for an injury kit while Nathaniel found some water to drink. He leaned by a window and looked out at the night. Melisende found the kit, grabbed some cloth and regarded Nathaniel.

"Take your armor off, and your tunic," she commanded.

He looked at her wearily. "As you wish." He handed Melisende the water and then slowly unfastened his armor, taking it off, followed by his tunic. Melisende bit her lip as she watched him, trying to look only at his wound. He was well built and muscular. Melisende swallowed her nerves and walked closer to him.

"We could have asked Anders to do this," Nathaniel said, looking a little uncomfortable.

"He's probably asleep, if he's even returned from Amaranthine. Anyway, this can't wait. Be still please," she replied, pouring some water over the cloth. She placed the cup on the windowsill, her arm and breast grazing his arm, sending a ripple of goose bumps throughout her. Concentrating on his wound, she began cleaning it. He flinched a little at her touch.

"I think this should be stitched, before it festers," she said as she examined the wound more closely, trying to ignore her rapidly beating heart. She took out a needle and thread from the injury kit and squatted down to be at level with the wound on Nathaniel's abdomen. She looked up at him. "You aren't going to cry, are you?"

He smiled. "I'll try not to, m'lady." 

"So tell me," she said as she began stitching the wound together, "what nonsense did I speak in my delirium?"

He flinched, but did not move as Melisende worked the needle through the skin. "I think you relived the attack on Cousland Castle."

"Oh?" she paused and looked up at Nathaniel. "That must have been very… uncomfortable for you…"

"A little, yes, but… it was good to know the truth," he said as Melisende continued stitching. "Delirium often reveals the truths of people's minds."

"And what other _truths_ did come out of my mouth?" Melisende asked, curious to know more, but dreading what else might have come out.

"You cursed a lot," Nathaniel paused, considering his next words, "…and you called out a name as you would a lover." Melisende was the one to flinch this time. She reddened, thankful it was not full light in the room.

"Whose name?" she demanded.

"Alistair," Nathaniel replied. Melisende finished stitching his wound and then wiped it down again with a cloth. Then she stood up and faced Nathaniel, who watched her face intently. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" she asked, feigning ignorance. She really did not want to speak of this, especially not with Nathaniel.

"Were you and Alistair lovers?" he asked.

"What is it to you?" she retorted.

"I want to know the character of our new king. To know if he is a fool."

Offended and perplexed, unsure of whether Nathaniel was insulting her or Alistair, Melisende gasped. "Do not speak that way! That is close to treason!" she exclaimed in warning. "He is a great king."

"Tell me, is it true then?" Nathaniel pressed on, undeterred by her attempts to avoid the subject.

"Yes. We were lovers." Melisende answered in exasperation. Nathaniel regarded her calmly for a moment. She gazed back at him defiantly.

"Alistair may be a great king, but he is a foolish man, for only a fool would let you go…" Nathaniel quietly divulged. Melisende opened her mouth in surprise. Nathaniel gently reached into her hair and pulled out a dried up leaf. Melisende's gaze followed his hand as he flicked the leaf onto the floor. He then grasped her head in his hands, turned her ever so gently to face him and leaned in for a passionate kiss.

Melisende felt her legs turn to jelly and she had to put her arms around Nathaniel's neck to keep herself steady. She shivered with pleasure at his touch and fervently returned his kiss after the first shock subsided. When they broke away from each other, both were breathing heavily.

"I've wanted to do that for a while now," Nathaniel gasped.

"Do what? Take the leaf out of my hair, or kiss me?" Melisende teased.

Nathaniel laughed. "Kiss you. Does this please you?"

"Sodding right it pleases me," Melisende replied, then hungrily kissed him again.

"I don't know why I call you _lady_." Nathaniel laughed when they broke free again. Melisende smiled.

"I don't know either. I never claimed to be one, though I am due the title."

Nathaniel pulled her closer and their lips met yet again. His hands brushed through her hair, pulling it loose from her bun. It cascaded sensuously down her back. Melisende's hands explored Nathaniel's arms, and then his chest. Nathaniel removed Melisende's cloak and threw it onto the floor. He kissed her neck and she moaned in pleasure. He picked her up and sat her on the windowsill. Melisende wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. The sensation of the cold at her back mingling with the warmth of Nathaniel's hard body pinning her own sent a shiver of pleasure through her.

Outside the supply room, the Keep was stirring to life, though it was still the darkest hours of the night. Footsteps echoed up and down the hallway and voices rang through them.

Oblivious to everything else but each other, Melisende and Nathaniel continued embracing and feverishly kissing one another. Nathaniel was about to remove Melisende's tunic when they were interrupted by the door swinging wide open.

"There you are!" Anders exclaimed anxiously. Melisende hastily pulled her tunic back down and removed her legs from Nathaniel, who turned around to look at Anders. Melisende stood up from the windowsill. "Am I interrupting something?" Anders asked, curious at the scene he had just walked in on.

"Um… no. We were, I mean, I was just fixing that." Melisende pointed to Nathaniel's wound. A few of the stitches had already come undone.

"With your legs?" a knowing smile entered Anders' face. Annoyed, Nathaniel found his tunic and put it on.

"What is it Anders?" he asked.

"The Commander wants to see everyone straight away," Anders answered, grinning broadly, unable to reign in his mirth at interrupting the two Wardens.

"This late?" Melisende asked.

"Yes, and we better not keep him waiting." Anders said, and then slowly turned around. "Ha, Oghren's not going to be happy about losing this bet!" he happily announced as he left the room.

Melisende and Nathaniel looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Are you coming?" Anders called from the hall. Melisende turned to Nathaniel, her face flushed. She was frustrated that they had been interrupted, but perhaps it was for the best. She would have time to think on what had happened before making any rash decisions.

"Yes." Nathaniel grumbled and then led the way out of the room.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter XVII

The hall was crowded with nobles and resonated with quiet murmurings. After pausing to re-order her hair, Melisende followed Anders and Nathaniel to the Commander's side. Seneschal Varel, Captain Garevel, Oghren, Sigrun, Velanna, and an odd looking fellow – Melisende assumed it to be Kristoff – were already gathered around Tristan.

Melisende's wounds began to throb in a dull pain. The last time she had been in the main hall she had nearly died. It had been filled with nobles just as it was now. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory. She caught Nathaniel's gaze and he smiled encouragingly at her. She nodded her thanks and then stood to attention by Sigrun, staying across from Nathaniel. Tristan flashed her a slight grin in greeting and then turned to Varel.

"Now that you are all here, I will repeat what I've already told the Commander. The darkspawn have fielded an army. The nobles have gathered here in haste at this early hour. They want to know how you will protect them." Varel explained.

Tristan looked calmly and carefully at each of the Grey Wardens, assessing them as a general would his troops before battle. Melisende's nervousness about being in the hall slowly gave way to anticipation. She knew that look; it meant only one thing.

"Assemble the men. We're going to war." Tristan stated. Melisende's anticipation quickly turned into excitement. _Going into battle?_ She could already hear the clanging of swords, see the splatter of blood and gore, taste the enemy's fear, smell the excitement of her comrades, and feel the grip of her pommel mould into her hand. She smiled excitedly.

Varel motioned the nobles over. Lord Eddelbrek emerged forward from the pack, visibly nervous and shaking with fear.

"I am fearful for the villages on the plains. There's a darkspawn army – _army_ – on the field. And with the soldiers returning to the Vigil…" Lord Eddelbrek said, trembling.

"Pull yourself together man! We cannot and will not give in to despair!" Tristan urged. Melisende admired the way Tristan never crumbled under pressure, how he took charge and inspired hope and faith in people, no matter how he really felt in private.

Lord Eddelbrek, however, continued to tremble, though slightly less than before. "This is no…"

Eddelbrek was interrupted by the arrival of an elf woman, out of breath and clearly in a panic. "Commander, commander!" she yelled as she pushed through the throng of nobles. Tristan turned his gaze toward her.

"What is it girl?" Varel asked.

"A darkspawn army is within sight of _Amaranthine_!" she blurted out between gasping for air. The room in turn gasped.

"Maker protect us!" Lord Eddelbrek said in a panic. "They're attacking the city?"

"Amaranthine's been undermanned for weeks. She may not last long." Captain Garevel mentioned forebodingly.

"Our forces cannot move quickly enough," Varel cut in before more despair could spread, "but a small force might make it in time." 

"But that's suicide!" Lord Eddelbrek blurted.

"We must try." Captain Garevel said.

Tristan motioned for everyone to keep quiet. "I will rally the city's defenders," he declared. Melisende's excitement was gone. Her stomach lurched at the thought of her friend putting himself in danger – mortal danger.

"If anyone can turn the darkspawn tide, it would be you, Commander." Varel said, a solemn expression on his face.

A determined look on his own face, Tristan regarded everyone in the room and confidently said, "I will. The darkspawn will not know what hit them." This garnered cheers from those gathered, including Melisende. Despite being worried only a moment ago, she was again swept up into a tide of excitement. There was no reason they couldn't beat this army. They had after all, defeated the archdemon and its army. Besides, what did Lord Eddelbrek know? He was a coward that knew nothing of battle.

After the cheers subsided, Varel inquired as to who would be going with Tristan to Amaranthine. Melisende stared intently at Tristan, trying to catch his attention and hoping he would bring her along. He seemed to not sense her unwavering attention, though, clearly avoiding her gaze.

"Justice, you're with me." Tristan said and nodded towards the odd looking, ghoulish man Melisende had thought was Kristoff.

"As it should be, our foes will pay heavily for their transgression. This I swear." Justice replied.

_Pick me, pick me next! _Melisende thought. She could sense the same eagerness in Sigrun standing beside her.

"Velanna," Tristan called, "this is a chance to avenge your people."

"We will cut down all darkspawn before us. And I will learn what they have done with my sister," Velanna said, stepping forward.

Melisende's heart began to beat faster, her chest tightening, anxious to hear Tristan speak her name. Her gaze flickered across to Nathaniel, who stood as stoic and calm as ever.

"Nathaniel." Tristan called next. Melisende's hands bunched into fists, her nails grating into her palms. _Nathaniel, _she thought_, but… _

Nathaniel glanced at her then, a look of calm resignation crossing over his face for one fleeting heartbeat. Then he stepped forward to hear Tristan.

"This is a chance to redeem your family." Tristan stated.

"Initially, I thought you were utterly mad to invite me to join your order. But redemption," Nathaniel paused, and then continued, "a man could die for that and feel good about it."

_No!_ Melisende thought. _You don't need to die. None of you. But you especially Nate. You big idiot. This can't be happening. Not… now. _Melisende felt like yelling, screaming, doing anything to stop them. It was a suicide mission. If she couldn't go, then why should they? There had to be another way. Her earlier confidence and enthusiasm had departed her, again.

"So it is decided." Varel said without relish, for Tristan had, in the eyes of many in that room, just doomed himself and three others to certain death.

Sigrun, Oghren, and Anders moved forward to say a few words to the four doomed Wardens. Melisende hung back for the moment, her arms crossed over her chest to signal her displeasure with the decision, but mostly to stop her heart from leaping out of her chest.

Melisende looked mournfully at Nathaniel. They had just about crossed the line between friendship and something else earlier that morning. She had no clue what that "something else" was, and now she might possibly never find out. She regretted now that she had ever gotten close to him. She shook herself back to reality and walked over to Tristan.

"I'm disappointed you chose to leave me here again…" she said to him.

"It's nothing personal, Melisende… though I hear you're not fully healed yet…" Melisende interrupted him with a hug. "Oh, who am I kidding, it is personal – you are my good friend and I want you alive," he whispered into her ear.

"Nobody needs to die," she replied, trying to convince herself once more, "Lord Eddelbrek is an idiot. He knows nothing of battle."

Tristan smiled conspiratorially. "I will do my best to make sure of that," he promised as they stood apart.

"I will hold you to that, and so would Leliana." 

"Leliana," he said wistfully, "would you…"

Melisende waved him off. "If it comes to that, I will." She sounded more confident than she felt. Melisende moved over to Justice and clasped arms with him.

"A pleasure to meet you. May we meet again soon," she said to him. Justice returned the greeting. She moved over to Velanna. She hadn't gotten the chance to know her that well, but she did empathize with her.

"I hope you get the answers you seek in regards to your sister." Melisende offered Velanna her hand in farewell. Velanna took it, though she wore a surprised expression on her face.

"Thank you," Velanna replied.

Melisende walked over to Nathaniel. She swallowed a sob, and then threw herself into his arms, unmindful of everyone around them. "This cannot be goodbye…" she whispered into his ear.

"It isn't," he reassured her, though he himself didn't seem too convinced. He ran a hand through her hair and then stood back to look at her. "We will see each other again."

Melisende nodded, and then broke away, moving to the back of the crowd, unable to stand the goodbyes any longer. Tristan gathered the three Wardens by his side. Captain Garevel joined them.

"The rest of us will stay here. Maker protect you and hold you close, Commander." Varel proclaimed as they left.

Melisende swallowed another lump in her throat and blinked back tears as she watched her friends walk away to face an army a hundred, maybe even a thousand times greater in number than them. _Maker grant that we see each other again… in this life_.

…

Melisende found herself back in her room, watching over Sammy, sleeping soundly. _As if nothing happened_, she remarked. She lobbed herself onto the chair beside the bed. Nathaniel's cloak was resting over the arm. She picked it up and regarded it for a moment.

_He's going to get cold_, she thought tiredly. The thought made her sad. It broke her reserve. She burst into tears. She was an emotional mess. She wished she could just be normal again, but she knew that was impossible. She was in love with the son of the man responsible for so much of her inner turmoil.

_Love_, she thought. _I am in love. _The sudden epiphany felt hollow, though. Nathaniel might not even come back. Melisende wrapped herself in Nathaniel's cloak and closed her eyes, savouring the scent emanating from it. The sun would rise very soon. She decided to try and snatch some sleep. Though her thoughts ran rampant with worry and fear, she was so tired from her day that she fell into a deep, but troubled sleep.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII

Hundreds of birds flew over the Keep, their cries a chorus of mismatched garbles, their wings creating a buzzing sound of an otherworldly tune. Their passage temporarily blotted out the mid-afternoon sun. For the superstitious among the Keep, this was a bad omen, signaling death. For Melisende, who did not believe in omens and signs, the memory of an angry, ornithophobic golem named Shale caused her to seek out cover. The last thing she wanted was to be defecated on by a bunch of birds.

"The birds," said a Keep guard as Melisende hid under a doorway atop the battlements, "I've never seen so many birds in my life. They are afraid of something. This must be an omen." 

"Don't be a fool. Birds are birds." Melisende replied hastily, as the guard made signs to ward off evil. "They are probably just migrating. It is autumn, is it not?

"Yes, but migrating all at once, ser?" the guard asked in return.

Though she didn't believe in omens and signs, the passage of so many birds in the same direction was a little unsettling. As the number of birds thinned out, the sun returned to view. Melisende stepped into it, bathing in its warmth.

"Put these silly superstitions from your mind. There is a practical reason for everything," she told the guard before moving to the edge of the battlements.

Melisende was in a bleak mood, filled with dread and dark thoughts. She was finding it very hard to stay positive this day. When she awoke from her short sleep, she found Sammy crying out in a feverish delirium. She had touched his forehead and had been nearly scalded by its heat. He was sick and she had tended him all morning until she could no longer endure the stuffiness of the indoors. She had found a woman of the Keep to stay by Sammy while she took to the fresh air of the battlements.

Now she was out, however, her thoughts turned to the other Wardens and the city of Amaranthine. It had been around half a day since they had left. They had probably already reached Amaranthine. As of yet, the Keep had no news of what was going on. Melisende, in turn, had conjured many possible outcomes in her mind already. Unfortunately, they tended to lean towards disaster.

The remaining Wardens suddenly appeared by her side.

"Don't look so gloomy, kid." Oghren said to her. "You and I both know what the Commander is capable of."

"Yes, archdemon. I know." Melisende sighed. "But it's different this time. There is no large army amassing at his back…"

The four of them silently watched the road leading to the Keep. It was unusually busy, filled with people and wagons.

"Aren't those farmers a little early for the market?" Melisende mused.

"They look troubled. And yes, the market is not until later this week." Sigrun remarked.

The sound of hurried footsteps behind them made them all turn from the view of the road. Varel stopped in front of them.

"Wardens, I'm afraid I have some bad news…" he said. Melisende's heart leapt.

"What is it?" she asked anxiously.

Varel pointed to the road full of people. "Those people arriving here are seeking refuge, not from the darkspawn army invading Amaranthine, but by an equally large darkspawn army heading _here_, to invade the Keep and surrounding farmland."

The four Wardens were stunned for a moment. "Our forces are weak." Anders blurted out.

"We must prepare then. Get everyone into the Keep as soon as possible. Get as much extra food and water from the village. Tell Wade and Herren to arm the Keep's soldiers, and any villager able to bear arms." Melisende heard herself command. Just a few hours ago she had admired Tristan for being able to command so easily, now it seemed it was her turn as the most experienced Warden present.

Varel nodded, and then ran to do her bidding. Melisende turned to Sigrun, Oghren, and Anders. "We must defend the Keep at all costs."

At that moment, screams echoed from the road below. A boulder came hurtling through the sky to land violently to the right of the Wardens. It crumbled to pieces as it hit the wall, sending shrapnel towards them, but not inflicting any major damage to the wall. They ducked and scrambled out of the way of the flying pebbles. Melisende stood up to watch the road – and indeed, an army of darkspawn was headed their way, an ogre heaving boulders at the front. The farmers ran frantically for the gates.

"To the outer gates, quickly!"

…

They reached the outer gates of the Keep just as the darkspawn did. The four Wardens and the Keep's soldiers were clearly outnumbered. As the horde began attacking, Melisende concentrated on getting all the civilians into the gates and then into the Keep's courtyard. She did not think the village could be saved, for its walls were not as sturdy as the Keep's.

There was chaos all around as darkspawn hacked at her as she pushed villagers and farmers into the gates. She shouted at them to get into the Keep. The ogre with the boulders was doing a lot of damage.

"Wardens, do something about that damn ogre!" she yelled as she shoved a teenage boy into the gates.

"It's armoured, but that won't deter me." Anders pointed out.

The four of them surrounded the ogre, taking turns attacking and distracting him. At the same time, they had to fight off hurlocks, genlocks, shrieks, and grubs. The Keep's soldiers held strong, taking down a number of the enemy. Eventually they felled the ogre, but more arrived, pounding at the outer gates.

A group of darkspawn managed to enter the courtyard. Most of the villagers and farmers had already fled there. Cursing, Melisende yelled for the retreat to the courtyard. They had to defend the civilians. The soldiers did as they were told, but a duo of ogres shoved their way to the front, blocking the way into the courtyard. Oghren distracted them both, attacking them both at once, allowing everyone to get through the Keep's gates into the courtyard. The others only noticed once they were safely in the courtyard.

"Archers, cover me!" Melisende yelled as she realized Oghren had been left behind.

"I'm coming with you." Anders said as the gates creaked open once again to let them through. The darkspawn that had made it through were quickly hacked to pieces by the soldiers. Melisende ran out, followed by Anders. They got to Oghren as he passed out, attacked the ogres for good measure, and then dragged Oghren back to the Keep courtyard under the cover of arrows.

"By the ancestors, we have already lost the village, and it isn't even nightfall." Sigrun said.

"The Keep will hold…" Melisende said as convincingly as she could.

…

There was no rest for the weary that night, nor the day after, nor the day after that. The Keep's walls continued to stand strong under the constant bombardment, but the strength of the soldiers was sapping quickly. They went out to strike the besiegers, inflicting little damage and taking more before withdrawing back into the Keep.

Melisende, tired, bones aching, muscles strained, and wounds throbbing, would not let their will dissipate. Although she felt like they were fighting a lost cause, she could not let it show. If they had any chance of making it through the siege, she couldn't let it dwindle by appearing gloomy.

Oghren was unconscious, but a hero. Anders and Sigrun remained by her side. Anders drained his mana every night, using magic to hold off the unrelenting enemy so the soldiers could get some sort of rest. Sigrun led daring charges into the fray, proving herself a great leader.

They had still no news of their companions, nor of Amaranthine. This lack of information drove Melisende to the brink. On the one hand, no news was better than bad news, but if they were all doomed… she tried to stay positive. She tried to send messengers to Amaranthine and to Denerim, but none of them could get through, the horde was so thick.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter XIX

The siege had gone on for a week. Melisende was surprised that she was even able to keep fighting, that they were all still fighting. They had gotten so little rest and so little respite. The walls, though a little battered and torn, still held. Every day, Melisende personally thanked Voldrik Glavonak, the dwarven architect, for his skill at reinforcing the walls.

At the same time, supplies were running low. There were barely any arrows or bolts left. Many soldiers were dead or injured and the Keep was mostly being defended by untrained villagers and farmers. Melisende admired their courage, but they couldn't go on like this for long.

Melisende was on top of the battlements with Sigrun, hacking off the heads of darkspawn trying to scale the walls. She was in a trance, fighting without thinking, giving orders without thought, unaware of them coming out of her mouth, nor of how she was even able to formulate strategy in such a trance.

"Is it my imagination, or are the darkspawn numbers not so great anymore?" Sigrun asked. Melisende slashed, and then stabbed a hurlock, kicking him off the wall and off of her sword.

"What?" she replied, still in a trance.

"The darkspawn. Look… they are thinning out." Sigrun pointed out. Melisende wiped her sword, and then shook herself out of the trance. She gazed at the army below, only it was true, it did not look like an army anymore.

"Have we killed that many?" Sigrun wondered aloud. Melisende watched as the darkspawn suddenly began to retreat away from the Keep. Perplexed, she looked around her, noticing that everyone had the same look of stunned disbelief.

"This could be a ruse," she warned. "It is best if we stay within the walls, lest we fall into a trap."

…

But it wasn't a trap. A few hours passed with no sign of the army returning. Melisende sent out scouts led by Sigrun to search the area. Everyone gathered in the courtyard to await their return.

Cautious optimism coupled with disbelief filled the air. Everyone in the courtyard twitched and fidgeted in nervous anticipation. Melisende remained on guard, unable to believe that the darkspawn would just leave.

Finally, as night fell upon the keep and the torches were lit, the scouts returned through the loudly creaking gates. It began to rain heavily. No one sought cover, too anxious to hear what news the scouts had.

Tired looking, but with a gleam in her eyes, Sigrun announced that it was over. "They have turned tail and run. They are gone. They have dispersed."

A moment passed in astounded silence. No one made any move. The only sound was the impact of the rain on the ground, on the armor.

"Tis the truth?" a farmer's wife finally asked. Melisende looked toward Sigrun, who nodded and smiled with relief. Melisende turned toward the crowd, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It is true. We have won!" she shouted. A roar of cheers filled the air, drowning out the sound of the rain. People patted each other, hugged, and even danced in the rain, throwing mud into the air.

"We did it!" Anders laughed, twirling Melisende around, and then hugging her. She laughed, and then smiled as people came to congratulate her. She joined in the impromptu celebration, relieved that the Keep had been saved.

The rain continued to pour, bathing the revelers and washing the Keep anew.

…

The celebration lasted all night and most of the following day. The people of Vigil's Keep were deliriously happy to be alive. Though they had lost many, they celebrated the fallen, acknowledging their selfless sacrifices. When the ale supply ran low, the fatigue finally settled over them all and they slept.

Melisende remained vigilant, posting guards to keep watch. She abstained from further celebration and from drink. Instead, she visited with the injured. She found Oghren awake and a little grumpy.

"By the tits of my ancestors, I missed the whole sodding siege," he complained.

"You are a hero, Oghren. You saved many lives that afternoon." Melisende tried to placate him.

"I wasn't trying to be one. I was trying to kill those sodding ogres."

"Well, you are a hero." Melisende smiled. Oghren grunted.

"Anyway, have your heard anything of the Commander?" he asked.

"Not yet," Melisende sighed. "News is slow in coming."

"Worried about your lover boy then?"

"Oghren! I'm worried about them all!"

"So it's true then. Anders told me that you and Howe were…"

"Oh Maker, nothing has happened!" Melisende interrupted, exasperated. Oghren chuckled.

"But you wish it did," he said. Melisende sighed. "Anyway, I bet Anders that you would kill Nathaniel before you would even let him touch you. Shows you how much I know."

"You guys are… horrible." Melisende laughed. "Wait, what made you think that Nathaniel would want to touch me anyway?"

"You really are blind then. The looks he gave you. Reminded me of a nug in heat." Oghren replied. Melisende gasped.

"Oghren, you are… dirty."

Oghren snorted. Melisende thought of what Oghren had said. She had never noticed any looks Nathaniel gave her. He never gave anyone "looks". He always had the same damn expression on his face. Or maybe she _was_ blind. If everyone else was anticipating their coming together, then why couldn't she have foreseen it? Anyway, it didn't matter now. Nathaniel was gone, maybe for good. Her face turned to stone. Maker, she hoped he wasn't.

"I just hope they're alright."


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter XX

Sammy's fever had broken during the siege. Melisende had not allowed him to go outdoors for fear he would be hit by an arrow or shrapnel. Now that the siege was over, he was itching to go out and followed Melisende into the village where she checked on the damage and was helping to rebuild.

They had not spoken of what had happened to his mother. Melisende figured that he would speak of it when he desired to and she didn't pester him about how he was feeling. She knew that when she had lost her family, that was the last thing she had wanted. Sammy did ask about Nathaniel. Melisende had a hard time concealing her worry from Sammy, but if he noticed anything, he did not mention it. Instead, he threw all his energy into helping clear out rubble at the outer gates, following Melisende's lead.

"Take it easy Sammy," she warned, "you've only just recovered. Put your cloak back on, it's cold."

Sammy rolled his eyes, but did as she bid, putting his cloak back on.

_Maker, I sound like my mother. Nagging and fussing over the boy every minute_, she thought. A smile crept onto her face.

An older woman carrying a basket full of bread hobbled towards the group clearing the rubble. "Time for a break," she chided. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted towards the hardworking group, causing stomachs to grumble with hunger. Melisende nodded and then motioned for everyone to break. Anders joined them then, looking a little hung over.

"Still hung over, Anders?" Melisende teased.

"Ah, the soldiers would not let me bow out of the drinking contest. I lost well before it was done," he replied, full of mirth.

"You deserved to be celebrated. Your magic kept everyone well rested." Melisende said, taking a bite of bread.

Before Anders could reply, Sammy shouted from atop the crumbling outer gate.

"Sammy, get down from there!" Melisende nagged, fearing a tumble.

"But look!" he replied, pointing in the distance excitedly. Annoyed, she climbed up to see what he was pointing at. Not too far down the road were four figures walking slowly towards the Keep. Her skin tingled in excitement and her heart leapt in disbelief.

"Anders," she said, motioning for him to come and see as well. Anders and everyone else around climbed onto the rubble to look.

"It is them. They have returned." Anders confirmed excitedly. Some of the villagers began to wave excitedly at the four figures.

"The Commander is alive!" one of them cried out.

"Is it really them?" Sammy whispered. The lead figure waved back and as they neared the Keep, the sun gleamed off of his golden-flamed hair. Melisende smiled.

"Yes," she whispered back to Sammy.

"Open the gates!" she yelled excitedly at the guards. An excited commotion broke out among the villagers as the figures came clearly into view –Tristan, Justice, Velanna… and Nathaniel. Melisende stood poised on the rubble, her heart beating tremendously. The gates creaked open and the four lost Wardens entered. The villagers crowded around them. Sammy ran to Nathaniel. Melisende could not move.

They looked tired, but relieved to be back. They were in good health.

"What of Amaranthine!" a villager anxiously demanded of Tristan.

"It is saved," he replied. A grin spread across his face. "And it looks as though the Keep is still standing. We had thought it lost."

"We thought you all lost." Anders said, greeting the other Wardens.

Melisende's gaze met Nathaniel's. He walked over to her, still standing atop the rubble.

_This must be a dream_, she thought.

Nathaniel stood below her, looking up. "Has the lovely Melisende been turned to stone?" he enquired, holding out his hand to her. She regarded it for a second, took it, and then was pulled into Nathaniel's arms.

"You are alive," she whispered into his ear.

"And so are you."

She hugged him fiercely, afraid to let go. The feel of him, indeed alive and well, undid her. She cried in joy, and then planted a deep, passionate kiss on his lips. The small crowd around them cheered. When the kiss ended, she found Nathaniel positively beaming at her. She laughed.

"It seems we have an audience," he remarked.

"I don't care," she replied. Tristan came around to them, smiling. He didn't look in the least surprised at Melisende's reunion with Nathaniel.

"Let us go to the Keep. There is much to discuss," he said.

Melisende did not take her gaze from Nathaniel's and she did not break from his embrace.

"Yes, in a moment. You go on ahead, my friend. Right now I cannot bear to break from this spot, for the man that I love is holding me dearly."

Tristan laughed, and then gathered the crowd around them to follow him to the Keep.

"Do you mean it?" Nathaniel asked once they were alone.

"Call me crazy, but, yes, I love you."

"I would not call you crazy, but would return the sentiment…" he replied, then kissed her. They broke free, but arms linked, followed the others to Vigil's Keep.


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue

It was a warm, spring day. The signs of renewal and rebirth were all around. The budding leaves, the blooming flowers, and the chirping birds the most apparent among many other signs. Melisende was heading west to Highever, Nathaniel by her side. They had been chasing down the last remnants of darkspawn all winter. They seemed to have dealt with the problem for now, at the least.

Fergus had invited Melisende home, intending to meet her on the road. She had not told him that Nathaniel would be following, but she didn't think he would mind. The two men had been friends a long time ago. Still, Nathaniel was a little uneasy.

"Are you sure Fergus won't mind? I don't want to impose upon him." Nathaniel asked.

Melisende smiled broadly. "I will throttle him with my fists if he finds fault with your presence."

Nathaniel chuckled, and then placed his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him. "Ah, my little spitfire. What would I do without you?"

Melisende reveled in his embrace and then winked at him. "Besides, we were so close to the border of the teyrnir anyway, it would have been a shame to send you back."

They continued down the road, looking out for any signs of Fergus. A little while later, they spotted him on the road, in conversation with a few of his soldiers. One of them motioned towards Melisende and Nathaniel and Fergus turned around to view them.

"If it isn't my little sister!" he acknowledged happily. He walked over to Melisende and dragged her into a bear hug. He let her go and turned his attention to Nathaniel. "And is this Nathaniel Howe?"

Nathaniel nodded and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "It is good to see you again, Fergus," he managed to say. Fergus regarded him coldly for a moment, and then burst into ebullient laughter, slapping Nathaniel across his back.

"I didn't think you'd have the stones to ever show your face again in Ferelden. I'm glad you proved me wrong." Fergus regarded Melisende and noticed her radiance as she watched Nathaniel. "And I think my sister is doubly pleased."

Melisende blushed. "That I am brother. Now can we get a move on?"

Fergus chuckled and then motioned for the soldiers to lead the way to Highever.

"How is your sister, Nathaniel?" Fergus asked, a thoughtful look on his face.

"She is well. She was delivered of a son not too long ago."

"So she's taken. A shame." Fergus followed his soldiers with Melisende and Nathaniel by his side.

…

"You will be surprised by the changes I have been able to make in so short a time." Fergus said as they neared Castle Cousland. Melisende was dreading passing the castle. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be back there. As the castle came into view, Melisende noticed that indeed, it did not look so derelict as before. "We haven't had many darkspawn to deal with around these parts, so I was able to spend some time on rebuilding."

"You have done well, brother. Father would be proud." Melisende commented as the group stopped in front of the castle. She suddenly knew that she wanted to go in. "Can we go inside?"

"Of course." Fergus answered.

"Do you want to come?" she asked Nathaniel. He shook his head.

"I'd rather not. Crumbling structures make me uneasy… perhaps another time. Go with your brother. You need time alone with him."

Melisende smiled, and then followed Fergus into the castle. The soldiers stayed behind at the entrance, along with Nathaniel. She was amazed at the transformation. Only months ago it was ruins, a shadow of what it once was. Now it was slowly returning to its former glory. Her childhood home was re-emerging from the dust.

"Well done, Fergus. I see you have not been spending all your time with wenches and ale." She teased.

Fergus guffawed loudly. "Oh there have been wenches a plenty. But there is much more to running a teyrnir, unfortunately. It is not all cookies and ale."

It was Melisende's turn to laugh now. "Really and seriously how are you?"

"I am fine, sister. Just taking it day by day. And you? I see you are in a better state than last we talked."

"Yes, I am better." Melisende smiled, again.

"Nathaniel?" Fergus cocked an eyebrow at her. She couldn't, for the life of her, not smile. Fergus nodded his head. "I am happy for you then. Though I would never have thought you to fall for him, of all possible men."

"I never thought so either. Especially after what his father did. I hated him when I first met him. But you know, he is not his father."

"Yes, he practically grew up in the Free Marches. The last time I saw him he was a lanky, skinny youth. We used to go carousing in Amaranthine, ha ha." Fergus reminisced.

"Oh please, I don't want to hear about that."

"No, you don't. You were just an innocent little girl." Fergus laughed.

Melisende sighed, and then laughed with Fergus.

"Come now, I've something important to show you." Fergus said seriously. He led her away to the courtyard in the rear of the castle. Melisende viewed four stone markers sticking out of the ground.

"Their graves?" Melisende asked solemnly. Fergus nodded. "I didn't even pay my respects last time."

"I think they would have understood." Fergus said thoughtfully.

Melisende walked over to the graves. They looked well tended. Though she was not very religious anymore, she said a short prayer over the graves of her father, mother, sister-in-law, and nephew.

"I hope to give them a better memorial in time." Fergus mentioned.

"Are you at peace, Fergus?" Melisende asked.

"I am getting there. There is no use in staying angry. It won't bring them back. Somehow, I doubt that they would want us to mourn them forever."

"You're absolutely right. We will never forget them." Melisende said sorrowfully. She realized that although she was younger than Fergus, she would most likely die before he did because of the darkspawn taint within her. He would be the last of the Couslands, unless he re-married and begot another heir. She gazed at the grave of Oren, her young nephew whose life was cut too short. She thought of his peculiar way of saying "sword" by pronouncing the "w". She smiled at the memory.

"Last time I was here, I could think of nothing but their deaths, but now I can think of their lives. The memories they gave us. The way they shaped who we have become. Do you think of these things now Fergus?"

"I do." Fergus grinned. "I can remember many fine days."

"I don't cry anymore when I think of a future without them. Is that odd?"

"No, I don't think so."

They lingered by the graves in silence for a few more moments. Melisende removed her Warden's amulet and laid it on her father's grave. She silently thanked him for releasing her into Duncan's custody that night, for forcing her to live. She had been angry then, but she was grateful now. The last couple of months after the Blight, she had thought she could never return to her old self. She thought she would stay a dilapidated shadow of herself. But she was restored. Becoming a Grey Warden had redeemed her. She realized that now.

"I am ready to go," she said quietly to Fergus.

"Then let us go."


End file.
